


Walking the Razor's Edge

by Tarlan



Series: Waiting For the Axe to Fall [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-07
Updated: 2000-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 51,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CSM's obsession with Alex leads them into mortal danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking the Razor's Edge

content='CSM's obsession leads Alex into mortal danger. Sequel to 'Waiting For The Axe To Fall'.'>

Axe II: Walking The Razor's Edge by

 _There is so much a man can tell you  
So much he can say  
You remain my Power, my Pleasure, my Pain  
To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny  
Won't you tell me is that healthy, baby.  
 **"Kiss from a Rose" by Seal**_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 **22:30 Hours  
New York**

The lights in the underground parking lot barely kept the shadows at bay but, at this time of night, there was little reason to want light. Even the most conscientious had long since left for their homes after a long day's work in the city. This left the lot deserted except for one dark-colored sedan. It was parked in the middle of the row, opposite the bank of elevators, which led from the building above. The headlights were off and the engine silent except for an occasional tick as warm metal gradually cooled. At first sight the car seemed empty but the small red light that flared sporadically attested to the presence of at least one occupant.

The CGB Spender sat in the back seat and waited patiently, eyes focused on the elevator doors ahead. He lit another cigarette, his ever-present trademark and took a deep drag, filling his lungs with the carcinogenic yet, for him, life enhancing nicotine and tar. He stifled the urge to cough although that became more difficult with each passing week. Already he spent far too many precious minutes hacking up his lungs in the mornings as he fumbled for that first exquisite drag of the day.

Someone once told him he ought to quit - for the sake of his health - but he had been a young man then and had not expected to live as long as he had. An occupational hazard. His cruel, seamed mouth lifted sardonically in one corner. He'd expected a bullet, a knife, something... anything... and had not been disappointed except that he had survived; survived to fall victim to the invisible killer that was eating his lungs: Cancer. Even the aliens could do little for him despite their incredible powers.

An expression of regret crossed his face. He should have heeded that warning but before he could sink deeper into those dark, self-pitying thoughts the elevator door opened casting a dim light across the lot that almost reached the silent car. A tall, thin figure approached cautiously, the man's head swiveling first one way then the other as he checked out the lot for any sign of impending danger. Once certain, he reached down and pulled open the car door. The Smoker glanced sideways as a man in his mid forties flopped into the seat next to him, light reflecting off the gold lucky charm hanging from a bracelet around his thin, hairy wrist. He took another drag from the half-smoked cigarette, flicking an imaginary piece of ash from the sleeve of his expensive suit while he waited for the man to settle but his patience quickly wore thin when the man remained silent beside him.

"Well?"

Dark eyes, gleaming in the dim interior, turned towards him and the Smoker could easily read the barely restrained insanity firing within their depths. The reedy voice seemed shrill and discordant, jarring the fuzzy atmosphere formed by the soft glow of lights from the parking lot and from the comforting silence that had descended during the short wait. A smile of animal pleasure was pasted to the pockmarked face; an inner glee bubbling through the seemingly mundane words he uttered.

"We located the laboratory."

"And?"

"He'd been there."

Spender leaned forward and savagely ground out the remainder of the Morley in the metal base of the ashtray. 'Been there' meant he was there no longer. The gleeful smile dropped from the thin, weasel face and the man flicked lank, greasy hair back from his forehead nervously as he registered the barely concealed frustration and anger in the other. This was not the news his employer wanted to hear. He continued, a little more subdued.

"We interrogated a few of the remaining technicians. I think you'll be pleased to know that he is both alive...and whole."

His employer looked up sharply, staring straight ahead through the windscreen into the semi-darkness beyond. He reached inside his suit jacket and removed the pack of Morley's, shook a fresh stick from the packet and placed it between his seamed lips. Light flared within the car illuminating the Smoker, casting deep shadows across his aging flesh. A smile curved upwards with the first drag, which could easily be mistaken for the hedonistic pleasure of a nicotine hit. A single thought churned around his mind.

Alive and...whole. "Excellent news. Have you a location?"

The man hesitated before deciding that his boss would not be interested in the pile of rubble that had been the secret laboratory of the recently deceased Englishman. He wanted the location of a certain ex-Consortium agent.

"No. No one knew what happened to him after he was removed from the tank."

He laughed in uncertainty, the sort of giggling cackle that would not have been out of place within an asylum, wondering if he should tell his employer what they had said and deciding it couldn't hurt and might even bring back a little levity into that dour expression.

"They said 'aliens took him'... whatever that's supposed to mean."

Silence descended. The smoking man smiled and gently stubbed out the cigarette that had quickly burned down to the filter, aided by the long drags he had made as he listened to his employee. He knew exactly what that meant and he knew who they meant; The Rebel Aliens.

The weasel-faced man slipped back into his memory of the frightened laboratory assistant and the pretty way she had begged as he sliced her flesh with a scalpel. His smile grew as he relived the sight of those bright ribbons of red flowing down her creamy skin, soaking into the dainty little bra and panties before a flick of his wrist sliced them from her plump body. Oh, he had such fun with her. Her soft, frightened whimpers still thrilled him....

"Is Agent Mulder still under surveillance?"

The man frowned, dragged out of his wonderful dream world back to the darkened parking lot. Puzzlement showed plainly on his face as he struggled to understand the significance behind the sudden change of topic.

"The First Elder withdrew surveillance several weeks ago. Without the Englishman he's no longer considered the threat that..."

"Renew the surveillance."

The older man turned his head away and after a few minutes of silence the man realized their meeting was over. He opened the door and started to clamber out before a gravely voice arrested the motion.

"Good work, Mr. Roberts."

The pockmarked man smiled at the unaccustomed praise, continued out of the car, shutting the door gently but firmly behind him before walking off into the deepening shadows. Moments later another shadow detached itself from behind a nearby pillar and swiftly moved into the driver's seat. The driver looked up into the rear view mirror and caught sight of the feral smile that almost reached his employer's rheumy blue eyes. He dropped his gaze before the internal shudder manifested itself physically and busied himself with gunning the engine. The sedan started smoothly, purring like a big, well-fed cat and the car pulled away slowly, heading towards the exit. He offered no words in conversation, knowing this man was too dangerous to engage even in small talk, awaiting instructions instead.

Spender let his head fall back against the seat and closed his eyes. Visions danced behind his eyelids... past, present and, with careful planning, future. A young man with dark, mahogany hair and beautiful green eyes, alive and whole, lying naked beneath him; impaled by him, crying out softly with each powerful thrust of his hips; himself, sinking into that sweet, firm flesh, kneading those perfect white ass cheeks.

A single word escaped from him on a quiet sigh of deep longing and intense pleasure.

"Alex."

When the Rebel aliens had attacked BioTechnics he thought he had lost his Alex forever. He, himself, had barely escaped with his life, eternally grateful for the sense of self-preservation that had kept his driver and car close at hand. They had pulled over not far from the entrance, just in time to see Dana Scully supporting her partner out of the burning building and forcing him into their car. Of Alex there had been no sign... and no attempt by either agent to return for him. Fire engines had descended upon the scene, and he had waited the three hours it took to douse the flames, watching for signs of any bodies being removed from the burnt-out remains of the laboratory. But the paramedics had gone away empty-handed leaving the Smoker with only two possibilities floating through his head, either Alex was dead, incinerated beyond all recognition of being human... or the Rebels had taken him.

Over two months had passed but now he had the answer.

"Alive and whole."

This was so much more than he ever expected. Seeing the physical perfection destroyed had angered him greatly as he remembered the way those agile fingers would caress his skin, bringing him to such exquisite heights of passion and pain. He had vowed to take revenge on the Russian peasants who had mutilated his 'lover' but gained no satisfaction when he discovered the task had already been performed by another.

Comrade Arntzen had decided the presence of these one-armed, rebellious peasants was a security risk. He had set up a ten-mile exclusion zone killing everyone within its perimeter that could not be used for the tests.

Spender's thoughts traveled back to the younger man. He remembered the way that pretty mouth, with its deep Cupid's bow, would smile just before the lips stretched wide to take inside his considerable erection; remembered the way the forest-green eyes used to dance as he watched the control slip from his 'master'. His expression hardened as he recalled the later years when those eyes would stay closed; the sucking hard and ferocious as Alex tried to bring him off as quickly as possible; the surreptitious wiping of swollen lips with the back of his hand when kissed. He had lost his Alex somewhere along the way but that didn't mean Alex had to stay lost. He grimaced as he took another drag from the ever-present cigarette. If Alex would not come back to him willingly then he would take him... and there were plenty of drugs on the black market that would ensure he forgot all about Fox William Mulder.

Spender opened his eyes and raised his head to stare straightforward through the windshield. Thoughts of Alexei Krycek's delicious body had sent tingling sensations thrumming through his aging body and, with a feral grin, he remembered the photo that had been handed to him earlier. He pulled a manila folder from the door pocket, removed the photo and studied the face. It was closer than some; the eyes were green although not the right shade; the hair dark but without the hints of red. Not his Alex but... A plume of blue-tinged smoke drifted from the back seat. He raised his voice, his soft yet gravely tone seeming to float across with the smoke.

"Have you made the necessary arrangements?"

The driver turned his head slightly to acknowledge his employer. "Yes, sir."

Another feral smile followed and the driver grimaced. John Davis did not need explicit instructions to determine where his employer wanted to go. Exiting the underground parking lot, he turned the wheel to take the shortest route to the nearby Interstate. Within minutes the sleek, black car was heading North towards the small town of Barter's Grove where a young man waited in a seedy motel for a patron who had promised twice the usual fee for his services.

***********

 **Three Days Later  
2630 Hegal Place  
Apartment 42  
Alexandria**

Mulder paused on the threshold of the bedroom and gazed in pure, unadulterated pleasure at the beautiful sight laid out before him on the bed. Alex was lying on his stomach, half-raised on his elbows with a book in his hands. Mulder couldn't prevent his eyes from traveling along the length of that perfect, naked body. The broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist; honeyed skin paling to white as his eyes fixed onto the exposed ass, with its soft round contours, then down the long, firm legs covered in a light spattering of dark hair, eventually resting on the soles of the high-arched feet. His eyes drifted back to his favorite spot... those pale globes of firm, muscular flesh. His hands itched to reach out and cup each one, pulling them apart to reveal the tightly puckered muscle that was the gateway to his own private heaven on Earth. Gradually he became aware of being watched and looked up to find a pair of teasing green eyes glancing over his lover's shoulder.

Mulder couldn't stop the blush creeping up his face from reaching the tips of his ears but Alex merely chuckled, a deep, sexy sound, pleased at the reaction his body caused in his lover. Mulder cleared his throat.

"I spoke to Skinner today."

A slight dip of the head and lift of the eyebrows was the only response. A beaming smile lit Mulder's often-pensive features. Alex abandoned his book and turned over, reaching for his lover's hand. He didn't really need to hear the outcome of that talk. He already knew what Mulder intended to do that day. They had talked about it long into the night. Obviously, from Mulder's expression, his own positive stance on what would happen had borne out. Skinner had not accepted Mulder's resignation but had accepted Mulder's lover, albeit reluctantly.

Momentarily, the sight of his lover's semi-rigid shaft arching gracefully across his thigh mesmerized Mulder. He swallowed audibly, pulled out of his frozen state by the heat flaring in those forest-green eyes. He reached the bed in two strides and pulled Alex into a strong embrace, nuzzling the dark hair before whispering into one slightly pointed ear.

"It's not all good news. We're on probation... both of us... and Skinner didn't mention anything about taking you back into the Bureau."

"That's not up to him." Alex pulled back and gazed into the large hazel eyes, seeing his own reflection in the dilated pupil. "Anyway, it makes more sense for me to remain on the outside as I expect the Rebels will want something in return for their investment."

Alex flexed his left arm, a perfect match to the other, as a reminder to Fox Mulder of what he had regained through his involvement with the Resistance. Even now, Alex could barely believe what he saw when he gazed down, terrified this was all a dream, that the tingling of nerve endings was just more of the phantom pain that had plagued him since losing the limb. His attention focused onto his left hand, fascination and awe vying for supremacy as he wiggled the fingers. He looked up when the hand was captured and brought to soft lips, watching as each finger in turn was taken into that luscious mouth and sucked. He licked suddenly dry lips as energy danced from those stimulated fingertips through the length of his arm and down into the pit of his stomach where it radiated outwards to set his whole being aflame with desire.

Mulder frowned, releasing the fingers from his mouth but still clasping the hand.

"That reminds me. Scully says the blood work results are due back from the lab today. She said she'd collect them and drop by on her way home..."

His words were halted when Alex, tiring of conversation, pulled Mulder down onto the bed, tugging him on top of his naked body. Strong hands ranged along Mulder's flanks then around his back as his mouth was drawn to the firm, willing lips below him. A tongue, soft as velvet lapped against his full bottom lip sending frissons of delight through sensitive nerve endings and his mouth opened in offering to the teasing, probing insistence. Moments later he found himself crushed against the other's mouth as his own tongue battled furiously with the invader, sucking, licking, pushing the other back and following its retreat into another taste of heaven... the taste of Alex. The battle ended abruptly as Alex submitted to his lover and Mulder flaunted his victory with strong strokes across the palate, along the smooth ridge of teeth and into the softness of inner cheek exploring the now familiar territory with the thoroughness of a perfectionist.

He felt a tug on his jacket and slowly they began a familiar dance as bodies writhed and flexed until every article of clothing had slipped from Mulder's body to lie pooled on the floor beside the bed. Alex smiled into the almost bruising kiss that had remained unbroken throughout their dance. He raised both hands to grasp either side of Mulder's face and gently pushed his lover away.

Fox Mulder stared down into eyes darkened in desire, his tongue teasing along his own kiss-swollen lips, unconsciously mirroring the man beneath him. Coherent thought returned and with it came the wonder of this moment. What had he done to deserve this? What gods had he so pleased that they saw fit to reward him with this beautiful, sensuous creature?

Alex frowned slightly as Mulder's expression darkened in fear. He was acutely aware of his lover's mood swings... the optimistic highs followed so closely by the lows of near paranoia. One corner of his mouth rose. Mulder was a regular roller coaster of emotions, one moment impassioned by his quest for the truth, the next despondent by the weight of past failures. He didn't need to be a mind reader to know what thoughts were racing through his lover's brain. He had seen the selfless awe and wonder as he gazed down at his one-time enemy, but new-found love, and knew the darkness was the flip side... the fear of losing what he had found. Alex took the one course of action that was guaranteed to drive those thoughts away. He pulled the face back down to his own and possessed the delectable mouth. His hands flowed through the thick chestnut hair, gliding down the nape of Mulder's neck to slide across the strong shoulders, then down further, until he was caressing the bulging biceps that supported the weight of Mulder's body above him. In response, Mulder moaned softly into the demanding mouth and felt his elbows give way until he was supported by his forearms either side of the broad shoulders, his chest resting against the almost hairless skin of his lover's torso. Long legs parted beneath him and Mulder felt his own slip between them until he could feel the silken steel of his lover's erection sliding against his own.

He moaned anew as Alex rocked his hips gently from side to side producing an exquisite friction as his swollen shaft rubbed against the soft yet muscular belly, trapped by his own weight. He lost himself in the sensation for several minutes and then, before he could fall over the edge, pulled back until he was kneeling between the wantonly spread thighs. As wonderful as this felt, Mulder knew he wanted something far tighter, far more intimate. His gold-flecked eyes widened as a small tube was dangled before him and his smile grew into a stunning grin as he allowed Alex to squeeze the cool gel onto his fingers. A single thought broke through the haze of lust, as he wondered how Alex could so easily understand what he needed.

He gently prepared his lover, watching the green eyes glaze over as his fingers plunged into the hot channel, stroking and rubbing the soft interior until he felt the tight muscles relax. He pulled away once more and sat back on his heels, waiting until Alex opened his eyes, needing to see the consent written across that expressive face before he continued. His memory of abusing Alex was still too close to the surface. Mulder smiled as the hungry eyes devoured his own, kiss-softened lips quivering with expectation, then positioned himself at the prepared entrance and thrust firmly but gently forward.

A sharp intake of breath was the only sound; the fluttering descent of long dark lashes, concealing the bright eyes, the only movement. Mulder held still and waited until the curtain of lashes rose before pushing forward once more. Once he was fully sheathed he paused again... this time to savor the tightness around his swollen flesh and the warmth of the firm ass cheeks against his thighs and balls.

Below him, Alex writhed, small pants of pleasure and need drifting up to caress his ears and ignite his body. Too soon the need to seek completion pulled him almost fully out of the delicious body before he plunged back into the restrictive heat, his mind soaring as guttural moans of welcome possession increased audibly.

Mulder pushed himself back up until his elbows locked and gazed down between their bodies, his own excitement increasing as he watched his shaft drive deep into the willing body. A hand snaked between them, grabbing Mulder's attention and he became mesmerized by the fingers that wrapped around his lover's tumescent flesh, gliding up and down the thick shaft until...

Mulder felt the beginning of his lover's orgasm as internal muscles clenched tightly around him. He forced his eyes to remain open as Alex cried out softly, watching the spurts of white semen splatter across the muscular abdomen and chest before giving in to his own impending destruction and rebirth as he pumped once... twice... three times into the beautiful sweat-sheened body.

He collapsed on top of his lover and reveled in the strong arms that enfolded him. They remained that way for a few moments until it became obvious that his weight was too uncomfortable for Alex to support. Mulder slipped to one side and pulled Alex against him, covering the still gasping mouth with a slow, affectionate kiss. He pulled back and grinned at the satiated expression on the angelic face knowing his own mirrored that of his lover's.

"You're good for me."

Alex smiled then laid his head upon Mulder's shoulder and, with no more words passing between them; they drifted into a deep, restful sleep.

************

 **East 46th Street  
New York City**

CGB Spender stubbed out one cigarette and, moments later; with the flick of his thumb he lit another. He glanced around the conference table seemingly oblivious to the baleful glares his actions evoked. The First Elder grimaced. He abhorred the habit and the man but could not deny Spender's usefulness to the Project.

"I am told you have renewed surveillance on Agent Mulder."

"Yes. I have reason to believe he will be contacted by the Rebel aliens."

"I see."

"If you wish me to remove..."

The First Elder's mouth tightened as the honeyed words flowed smoothly from Spender's almost sneering mouth, with the faked subservience grating on already over-strung nerves.

"No. But I wish to be kept informed."

"Of course. Is that all?"

It was easy to see that there was no love lost between the two men but then, Spender seemed to hold most of the powerful men present in barely held contempt, his condescending attitude doing little to hide his disdain.

"Strughold has confirmed his requirements. You will arrange for more... merchandise to be shipped. I expect you to take a personal interest in the latest batch of acquisitions."

Spender nodded his head, lips pursed with a small show of distaste. He was reluctant to leave the States knowing that Alex might be in hiding nearby. As to reporting the results of any surveillance on Fox Mulder... well, he would ensure a highly edited version reached the First Elder should his theory pan out. He did not want anyone to interfere with his plans to regain Alexei Krycek. Spender half-listened as the First Elder continued; the other half of his attention caught in planning what he would do if he should locate Alex.

"In the meantime, to eliminate any possibility of Mr. Mulder interfering with our work I suggest you make arrangements for him and his partner to be permanently reassigned away from the X-Files... and more amenable agents put in place."

"I have already set the wheels in motion."

"Excellent."

***********

 **2630 Hegal Place  
Apartment 42  
Alexandria**

A knock on the door brought both men out of a light sleep. Mulder glanced blearily at the bedside clock, his blue-gold eyes widening in shock.

"Jesus, Alex! Look at the time!"

He leapt out of bed, throwing sweats and a T-shirt at the recumbent man even as he struggled into his own sweats.

"What the..." was all Mulder heard as Alex found himself muffled by the sweat pants that landed on his face.

"Scully!"

"Oh shit!"

Alex clambered out from under the well-mussed sheet, hair in disarray and started pulling on the clothes. Beyond the bedroom door they heard the sound of the apartment door opening as Scully let herself in.

"Mulder?"

Her soft, inquiring voice filtered along the short corridor. Alex ran a hand quickly through his short hair and turned to inspect his lover. He smiled at the strands of hair that had taken on a life of their own, reaching out as if trying to escape from his head. Dunking his fingers in the glass of water by the bed, he ran his fingers through Mulder's hair, taming the errant locks. A quick peck on the cheek was his thanks as Mulder hurried out of the bedroom to meet Scully in the living room.

She smiled as she noticed his flushed face and flustered manner.

I know what you've been doing... the singsong words floated into her head as they had when she was a child taunting her elder siblings. Her smile raised a notch when he ran his hand through the thick chestnut hair, undoing all of Alex's work. A few moments later Alex entered the room looking equally disheveled... and bearing a mischievous grin.

"Before you say it... No, I hadn't forgotten you were coming over. I just forgot the time."

"Got a little bit distracted, hmmm?"

The twinkle in her crystal blue eyes was at total odds with the seriousness of her expression but she couldn't hold the 'severe' face for more than a few seconds. Mulder blushed in embarrassment as her pretty mouth broke into an impish grin. She turned her gaze, automatically, to take in Alex Krycek. Much of the bad blood between them had faded away during those days in Florida. Still, she had not completely resolved all her feelings towards him but had made the effort for Mulder's sake. Seeing him now looking so young, innocent and carefree made her smile. This was the Alexei Krycek that she wanted to know, and not the duplicitous rat that had entered their lives all those years ago. She had come to care for this Alex Krycek.

The mood was broken as Mulder collapsed into his favorite spot on the old leather couch.

"Coffee?"

Scully looked back at Alex, almost off-hand in her reply.

"Yeah, sure."

She sank onto the easy chair opposite, engaging Mulder in small talk until Alex reappeared carrying three mugs. Once he settled himself on the couch next to her partner she reached down and drew a folder from her briefcase. It was the report from the laboratory.

"It's bad news, I'm afraid. The sample must have been contaminated as the blood showed elements that couldn't possibly be present under normal circumstances."

"What sort of elements?"

"Oh, a higher percentage of copper than would be deemed safe in a human blood sample... and strange aberrations of the DNA strands. I thought I could take another sample, send it through the labs again."

"No."

Both Mulder and Scully looked at Alex in surprise, not understanding why he would suddenly refuse to undergo the tests.

"I don't think it's necessary." He glanced from one to the other. "I mean... look at me! I'm fine... just got one more hand than I had a few months ago."

Scully raised an eyebrow; her partner was more vocal in his opinion.

"Alex, that sample could be exactly what we need to prove there is extra-terrestrial life not only 'out there' but walking around among us. You might be the irrefutable proof the skeptics have demanded..."

Dana Scully watched as Alex averted his face from his lover's bright eyes, seeming afraid of the obsessive light gleaming from them. She watched his lips thin; realizing how close Alex was to saying something he might later regret. She interrupted Mulder before the explosion occurred.

"Mulder? Were the samples taken for Alex's benefit... or for yours?"

Mulder halted midstream, a stunned and wounded look crossing his face as he began to deny putting his own search for the truth ahead of his lover's well being. The words tailed off as realization came. Parading Alex Krycek around as a human/alien hybrid might bolster his own ego, proving to the world that he was right, that there was intelligent life out there but the effects on Alex would be devastating and might even cost Alex his life.

"You're right. Perhaps it's for the best."

He glanced up and produced a small smile for the man seated by his side then reached over and pulled Alex into his arms, hugging him tightly. After a moment's hesitation, Alex hugged him back.

"Well, if that's everything then I'm off. I have a date with hot bath, a bottle of tequila and a Hershey bar."

"Life in the fast lane, Scully."

As she walked to the door, trailed by her partner, Scully smiled secretly to herself. What she hadn't mentioned was the Jackie Collins novel she had treated herself to... and word on the grapevine was that it was raunchy in all the right places.

************

 **One Week Later  
FBI Headquarters  
Washington DC**

Mulder could still not believe the way events had unfolded over the past week. The day after speaking with Skinner he had found himself back in the AD's office with Scully and what followed still filled him with both disgust and anger.

Skinner had seemed almost apologetic as he informed them of the decision to remove them from the X-Files. Apparently, someone in the higher echelons of the Bureau had decided that, following the Antarctic incident; Mulder was too obsessed and therefore no longer subjective in his current work. He and Scully were to be replaced by Special Agents Jeffrey Spender and Diana Fowley.

There were plenty of reasons why the news of his successors jarred. Despite the fact that he and Diana had originally set up the X-Files together, Mulder was less than willing to see her take them back. Her decision to take up another assignment had followed hard on the footsteps of their ill-conceived marriage and subsequent divorce. He knew that, at the time, she had not been happy with the decision but it was that or carrying on as if nothing had happened between them; pretending they had never shared anything more than an obsession with the paranormal. He had been grateful then... now he was livid. As to Jeffrey Spender...

The scene with AD Skinner replayed in his mind....

"That's a load of bull and you know it. They thought they had destroyed my work when they burnt the files. You know and I know that Spender is a Consortium lackey... this is just another excuse to remove me from..."

"Agent Mulder, I am not here to argue with you. You and Agent Scully will report to AD Kersh for reassignment at 11:00. Dismissed."

"Sir, isn't there..."

Skinner held up a hand as Dana Scully uttered her first words since entering his office. She closed her mouth and watched as the hand traveled across the strong face and over the balding head.

"You're good agents.... both of you... and I'm sorry this has happened but I have no say in this matter. And neither do you. Dismissed."

Mulder had stormed out of the AD's office and, two hours later, he and Scully had found themselves clearing their desks and moving into AD Kersh's realm.

A week had passed since then and the only work that appeared on their desks seemed so inconsequential as to be laughable; checking references was the sort of task reserved for junior agents, fresh out of Quantico. He had reconsidered resigning but Alex was right. Someone was trying to force him out by demoralizing him. This knowledge merely served to fire him up; his stubborn, obsessive streak standing him in good stead for once as he decided that, if the X-Files couldn't come to him then he would go to them.

By day he was the pencil pushing bureaucrat as ordered, seeming to work late into the evening but, as soon as the last person left he returned to his own agenda, hacking into the FBI database looking for anomalies... and raiding Spender's waste basket. It looked as though Spender shredded everything that came across his desk.

Mulder frowned, aware that the true casualty of his latest plan had been his lover. Although only a week had passed he could sense the restlessness in the other. Until his reassignment they had filled the evenings with sex... fantastic sex... but over this past week he had not returned until the early hours. Mulder felt the smile that lifted his lips falter. Alex had waited up, choosing to sleep during the day but the strain was starting to tell as they collapsed together on the bed with Mulder too tired to raise an eyebrow let alone... He sniffed softly. Such a turnaround. Two weeks ago Alex had been returned to him, miraculously alive and whole but filled with a debilitating fatigue. During those first few days it was Mulder who made most of the effort, teasing and caressing, bringing Alex to the edge slowly and gently. He smiled in remembrance of those times when Alex would pass out from the shock waves riding his body.

Since then the man had started to recover and it had not been unusual for Mulder to return to his apartment to find his lover doing a series of strenuous sit-ups and press-ups, rebuilding his strength. Over the past few nights, however, he had noticed the almost imperceptible twitch of the curtain as he made his way up the front steps and into the tenement building. Usually, by the time he had reached the apartment Alex had come away from the window having found some other task to occupy him but the fact that he took such a risk in the first place was a sure sign of his increasing restlessness.

Mulder glanced at the clock. It was time to start the last of his night duties. He crept down to the basement office where he and Scully had so recently spent most of their time when not on assignment. A quick check showed that no one was around and so he snuck in using a spare key he had cut several years ago, in case of emergency, but had deliberately failed to hand over to Skinner. With deft movements he emptied the trash can into one plastic bag and emptied another bag of shredded paper into the trash bin in replacement. He didn't want to make the cleaner suspicious. A bang from along the corridor caught his attention. He waited silently. Looked like the cleaner was doing his rounds slightly earlier.

Mulder took a quick gaze through the single folder in the desk drawer, memorizing the details, flicked off the desk lamp and left the office. The clatter of the trash cart proved he had cut it a little too fine but he sighed in relief as he made the corner just before the cleaner turned the far one.

Four hours later Mulder had pieced together most of the latest shredded document. He grimaced. It was a report of strange lights over Barter's Grove. Nothing special there. The small town was close to a military research station.

Mulder ran a hand through his short brown hair, sending strands spiking in all directions. It was almost two a.m. Time to leave. He turned off the PC and hauled on his jacket and coat.

When he finally pulled up outside the apartment he saw the curtain twitch and grimaced once more. He was being so unfair to Alex but what choice was there? As he moved into the quiet lounge he expected to find Alex curled up on the sofa reading... or puttering around the kitchen making a sandwich but both rooms were empty. Eventually he found Alex in the bedroom, standing in the dark, still gazing almost longingly around the edge of the drawn curtains at the world beyond. Mulder walked up behind him, wrapping one arm around his broad chest as the other closed the curtain. He nuzzled the fine dark hairs at the nape of his lover's neck and whispered a soft 'hi' into one elfin ear.

Pulling his lover away from the window, Mulder placed his finger across the bow-shaped lips when it looked as though Alex was about to say something. With deft fingers he stripped both of them and turned to study Alex. Only the barest glimmer of light bled into the bedroom from the living room but it was enough to throw shadows across the well-formed chest, emphasizing the strong pectorals, the peak of an erect nipple and the ripple of muscle across his abdomen. Mulder gazed at his own reflection in the dressing mirror. Many described it as athletic, lithe... a runner's body with long thigh muscles and strong calves. Alex... well, he was built more like a fighter; a boxer. So apt, really, considering their life styles.

Strange, but when he first entered the room he had all the intention of falling into bed but not for sex, just to sleep. Seeing that lost and forlorn figure sent a shard of ice ripping into his heart and he could think of only one way to bring the warmth back.

Alex had remained motionless as if in shock when Mulder lay face down on the bed, head pillowed on his arms, offering his body. The concern on his face proved he had seen the fatigue that dulled the chameleon eyes and he was expecting nothing more than to hold Mulder while he slept. Alex sank down on the bed, trailing one hand along the soft, exposed skin and then sighed deeply, removing his hand.

"We have to talk."

Mulder mumbled a reply but knew Alex would not be satisfied until he heard something more intelligible so he turned his head to look up into Alex's pensive face.

"I know... but not tonight."

They held each other's eyes a moment longer before Alex nodded his assent.

"Okay. Not tonight... but soon." His voice becoming even softer, huskier. "Come on, you're tired. Let's just lie here. Sleep."

Mulder reached out and grabbed the hand that drew the bed sheet over his body.

"I do love you, Alex. You know that. You mean..."

Alex placed one finger over his trembling lips.

"I know."

Alex finished pulling the sheet over them and then snuggled down, pulling Mulder into his arms. After a few minutes he heard the sound of Mulder's breathing change, growing softer and deeper but, for him, sleep was elusive and, many hours later, he was still staring up at the ceiling watching the light of a new day creep across the room.

***********

 **The Next Morning  
FBI Headquarters  
Washington DC**

AD Skinner dropped his briefcase onto his desk and sighed. He sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling up in distaste and he turned on his heel. Holding the 'No Smoking' sign up like a cross to a vampire, Skinner approached the seated man.

"I won't even bother asking how you got into my locked office uninvited but you can at least show a little courtesy."

Spender merely smiled and took another long drag at the cigarette held nonchalantly in his hand, blowing the smoke out in one long stream directed towards the AD's face. With the other hand he flipped a folder to Skinner. The AD caught it deftly and glanced at the cover. The name 'Barry, Duane' written in bold type across the title. He recognized it as the report Mulder had written following Duane Barry's suspicious death; the report in which the Special Agent had made allegations against Alexei Krycek.

"It appears Mr. Mulder has recently rescinded certain allegations made against his... former partner, Agent Krycek. Any particular reason why he should do so at this time?"

"How the hell would I know? The man's no longer under my control."

"Oh come now, Mr. Skinner. I am not a fool and I did not take you for one either. Where is Alexei Krycek?"

Skinner kept the small smile that threatened to break across his face from showing. Despite his own personal dislike of Krycek... for obvious reasons; the beating he had taken on the hospital stairwell being one of them, the thought of holding out on CBG Spender was far more pleasurable than what he would gain in handing over information on Krycek's whereabouts. He turned his dead pan expression back on the Smoker, his voice low and gruff.

"I have no idea... and even if I did, what makes you think I would tell you?"

"Professional courtesy?"

This time the smile did make it's way onto Skinner's face as he tossed the 'No Smoking' sign at the smoker.

"Perhaps if I ever saw some then I might be willing to reciprocate. You found your way in so I assume you know your way out."

Spender rose and moved to the door. He paused on the threshold.

"One day you'll need me..."

"When hell freezes over."

A malicious smile curled the corner of Spender's mouth. He nodded his head once and left leaving Skinner alone with his thoughts, wondering if he should mention this 'visitation' to Special Agent Mulder. With a shake of his head he decided it would be better to forget the whole thing. He grimaced as a nasty taste reached his mouth. The day had barely begun and already he had heartburn.

Skinner popped two tablets into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully as he pulled the first of many reports open in front of him.

***********

 **A Few Hours Later  
AD Kersh's Department  
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC**

Scully watched her partner from her desk. She knew what he was doing late at night after everyone else had left but it did not sit well with her on more than one front.

Firstly, she hated the subterfuge, her sense of duty vying uncomfortably with her loyalty - and love - for her partner. They both knew what would happen to him if he was caught and, although he would do his damndest to ensure she was not hit by the fallout, she knew she would be 'tainted by association'. Normally this would not bother her. She had made the decision to stick by her partner through thick and thin and nothing -- not even his relationship with Alex Krycek -- could alter that. However, a black mark on her FBI record would close many doors of opportunity... and for what? Mulder had no proof that Spender and Fowley were deliberately concealing evidence, just his intuition. In the past that would have been enough but she wondered how much of this 'intuition' was actually fuelled by baser emotions; jealousy, bitterness, anger.

Secondly, she was fully aware of the strain this was putting on Mulder. He was more than just her partner... he was her best friend and she was appalled by the way he had been treated. She could understand his anger and felt it almost as keenly. Over the past few years she had devoted a lot of energy to the X-Files, or rather, she had devoted the energy to Fox Mulder and his strange quests. She knew her inability to accept much of what was thrust in front of her face was a constant source of dismay to her partner but, equally, she knew how much he relied upon her disbelief to keep him grounded. However, working with Fox Mulder was a double-edged sword. It had provided her with some unique opportunities to broaden her pathology skills but it had also brought her closer to death on more than one occasion. Memories of Donald Pfaster and Duane Barry brought on a shudder of remembered fear before being swiftly pushed back where they belonged.

Now, as she watched him scrub at tired eyes she felt more than just compassion rise; she felt her own anger and with it, her determination to give him whatever support he needed be it physical or psychological. With that thought in mind she rose from her desk.

***********

Mulder rubbed his hands across eyes dulled by fatigue, gulping down black coffee in the hope of pushing away the tiredness. He grimaced in distaste, suddenly aware of the amount of time that had passed. The coffee was cold... stone cold. He must have dozed off reading the latest boring report that had crossed his desk. He flipped the report shut with a heavy sigh. Eventually he would get used to the lack of sleep but, until then, he would have to take it easy. He didn't want Kersh to order him out of the building... and he didn't want to face any more disapproving looks from his partner.

Another cup of coffee was placed before him, the aroma curling up with the steam. He inhaled appreciatively and swiveled in his seat. Ignoring the concern in the bright blue eyes, he smiled his appreciation.

"You must be a mind-reader, Scully."

"And you should be more careful. They've been sniggering at you for the past ten minutes. Fortunately they can't tell the difference between one of your 'introspections' and a man fast asleep at his desk so they gave you the benefit of the doubt." Her eyes narrowed in thought and she added softly, "I think."

Mulder smiled wryly; well aware of the way he was viewed by many of the agents present. He mumbled something under his breath and then found himself smiling at the knowing look on her pretty face. Despite all they had been through, all their differences, she still knew him better than anyone else on the planet. The only exception being Alex.

He sighed. What was he going to do about Alex? He loved him... had been prepared to give up everything to stay with his lover but they both knew time was running out for the human race so their own personal choices would have to take a back seat. Mulder realized that the time to talk about the future... their future... had come. He couldn't expect Alex to wait around in his apartment, like a dutiful spouse, and Alex would not expect him to give up his cause. Too much was at stake. Tonight he would leave early and they would do what Alex had asked last night; they would talk.

Decision made, Mulder turned his attention back to the hot coffee... and his desk.

His in-tray was filled to the brim with the usual detritus of office paperwork; forms for car rental, forms for expense claims, briefing reports, social reports. The list was endless and most were barely glanced at before being filed away... in the circular wastebasket by the side of his desk. An irritating squeak heralded the arrival of yet another load of mail and Mulder sighed, expecting more of the same boring paperwork to be off-loaded. Around him the other agents grimaced in annoyance. They had offered to bring in some grease to oil the wheels of the cart but, despite the irritation, Mulder preferred to be forewarned of someone coming up behind him.

When they had been sent back to the bullpen, they had been forced to accept the only available desks; desks that nobody else felt comfortable sitting in. He realized pretty quickly how lucky he had been when the powers that be had given him the basement office. It might not have been the most glamorous of locations... and the view sucked but it had afforded him not just privacy but also peace. Here, the inane chatter and the clatter of fingers on keyboards were almost enough to drive him insane. Fortunately he did not need to 'think' about the work he was given. However, sharing an office with umpteen other agents had another downside. Although having his back to the rest of the office gave him a slight sense of privacy, it also meant that he couldn't see anyone approaching... and there were a few items on his PC and on his desk that he would prefer not to reveal to the others.

Another small sigh. Agent Sanders would be leaving next week to have a baby and, as Senior Agent, he had already put in a claim for her desk once vacated. It moved him a little further away from Scully but, with a little persuasion, he hoped he might be able to convince Sander's ex-partner to swap desks with her.

The cart stopped by his side and Mulder watched the messenger reach for a stack of papers, files and envelopes. Mulder eyed the latest additions to his in-tray with disgust. Hauling them out and placing them in a pile in front of him, he started separating the post; some were added to the pile on his desk, the rest dropped the short distance into the trash bin. Automatic pilot was suddenly disengaged as the removal of a staff memo revealed a small manilla envelope. Mulder's eyes narrowed in curiosity. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands but, other than his name, there were no other markings or writing to indicate an origin. With extreme care, he slit open the end and tipped the contents onto the desk in front of him; a single piece of paper, with a name written on it, fluttered to the desktop. A quick check revealed nothing left behind in the envelope. With his curiosity level raised another notch, Mulder read the name out, loudly enough to attract the attention of the agent seated nearby.

"You say something?"

"No, just talking out loud."

As he turned back to the single sheet of paper held in his hand, he caught the relieved look on Markson's face in his peripheral vision. He grimaced, his mouth a tight line of annoyance. No one spoke to him unless they had to and all seemed to dread the occasions when 'Spooky Mulder' deigned to talk to them. His thoughts drifted back to the two people who did not treat him like some pariah; Alex and Scully. A small smile lifted the sensuous lips at the incongruity of his thoughts... and their names.

Dana was his best friend... and he called her Scully out of affection. Alex was his lover and the love of his life yet he rarely ever thought of him as Krycek anymore. He had used that name as a curse for a hated enemy and now only employed it when he was annoyed or wanted Alex's full attention.

The smile broadened but the sound of feet shuffling behind him brought him back from those distracting thoughts. He waited but the feet moved passed his desk towards another and he turned his attention to the name on the piece of paper held in his hand. With his eidetic memory he knew that it was not a name he had come across before so he accessed the FBI database using the name in the search parameters. A minute, that felt like ten, passed before the information began to feed across the screen; Michael Anacek, age 31, dark hair, green eyes, height 1.8m, weight... Mulder frowned. The description fitted Alex.

The rest of the information detailed Anacek's criminal record; 23 arrests for prostitution spanning fifteen years; possession of narcotics leading to a short jail term. Passing across this information, Mulder noticed a recent entry; a missing person report entered the previous week. With some trepidation he clicked on the image button and was strangely relieved to find a photo of a man who, despite bearing a striking likeness to his Alex, was obviously not his lover. His fear of finding a clone abated.

Mulder frowned again, pursing his lips in annoyance. Why would someone send him this information? If they were hoping to drive a wedge between him and Alex then they needed to do better than this but... another thought crossed his mind. The man was a prostitute who had been reported missing well over a week ago; a prostitute with a resemblance to his lover. What was the connection?

Surreptitiously, he checked around to ensure no one was paying any attention to him before pulling up the Missing Persons report. His eyes widened, mouth falling open as a name jumped from the screen: Barter's Grove. His memory whizzed back to the shredded paper he had pieced together last night and discarded so casually afterwards.

"Mulder? What are you doing?"

Mulder looked up from his frantic search of his desk and the wastepaper basket into Scully's concerned gaze noting the way her eyes flitted from side to side. He glanced around to see several agents staring at him in morbid fascination, only then becoming aware of the papers scattered over the floor in his search. He opened his mouth to say something flippant when he saw it, the office light glinting off the strips of tape used to reconstruct it. All thoughts of the people around him vanished as he reached for the report.

"Eureka."

Mulder waved the sheet of paper in Scully's direction and then turned to glare at a few of the spectators. None rose to the challenge, all preferring to back off and leave 'Spooky' to his own devices; all except Dana Scully.

Scully cleared a space on the seemingly ransacked desktop and perched casually on the edge.

"Care to tell me what this is all about?"

Mulder pointed to the screen. Scully twisted to view the data, unwilling to give up her self-made seat. She skimmed the report on Michael Anacek, her brow furrowing as she read the description and saw the photo.

"Okaayyy. So..." She halted as the repaired sheet was thrust into her tiny hands. The lifting of one well-sculptured eyebrow said 'I know where this came from' and he had the good sense to look chagrined but she read on anyway. "So you think there's some connection?"

"Don't you? Here we have a missing person who just happens to have disappeared the same night strange lights were seen over the town. This has all the hallmarks of a classic UFO abduction..."

"Mulder, we're not on the X-Files anymore." She reached down and picked up the small piece of paper with the name written on it, not recognizing the writing. "What's this?"

"Arrived in my in-tray this morning." Mulder stared deep into the blue eyes. "Scully, someone sent me this name on purpose. Someone wants me to look into this... but why? At first I thought it might be someone who knows about my relationship with Alex; someone who wants to freak me out but the guy has only a fleeting resemblance..." Mulder sighed. "...Okay, has quite a good resemblance to..."

"They're so alike they could be brothers."

He paused as Scully's remark went careening through his head. He decided to flow with the unbidden thought that flashed into his mind... just a hunch but... He brought up the Missing Persons database and keyed in some relative details that matched the description of his Alex; male, dark hair, green eyes etc then sat back as the search engine trundled through the numerous files. He spent the interminable wait picking up the wads of paper that had been discarded in all directions during his search... and listening to Scully's fingernails click on the surface of his desk, until a warble indicated that the search was complete.

Mulder leaned back in surprise at the list of thirty-two names that was presented to him. He printed the names and then clicked on each in turn to bring up the details and photos, with Scully watching over his shoulder. By the time they had worked their way through all the names Mulder knew his hunch had paid off. Of the thirty-two names there were seven men, including Michael Anacek, who bore a remarkable resemblance to Alexei Krycek. Many were the kind of low-life that nobody really cared about; prostitutes and drug addicts, the denizens of the red light districts and bars that filled many of America's cities. Anonymous figures who were only missed by their pimps and dealers for financial reasons and yet no one seemed to have made too much of a fuss when they disappeared. Mulder took the 'last seen' details of these men and plotted them on a map. They were spread across the country from Los Angeles to Chicago.

His first thought was that these unfortunate men had paid the price for having such a close resemblance to his own lover. The Consortium had searched high and low for Alex following his theft of the MJ-12 tape. It still amazed him that Alex had managed to evade their grasp for so long... unless someone had been protecting him. His thoughts churned on. The latest missing person had disappeared just over a week ago and if he had been mistaken for Alex then it was a fair bet that the 'wrong people' knew Alex was back in the US. Sudden concern for his lover showed plainly on his face. He printed off a copy of the Missing Person report for each of the seven.

"I need to take this to Skinner. The latest victim disappeared over a week ago and if we don't move soon then the trail will have gone cold. Besides, we'll need to correlate these reports with UFO sightings."

"I'll go through the personal files and see if I can find any other connection... apart from the obvious one that they all resemble Alex in some way."

Scully smiled at the grateful grin that lit up her partner's face. She watched as he gathered all the data together and head out of the bullpen towards Skinner's office with renewed purpose, the adrenaline kick of a new case putting the spring back into his step.

***********

 **AD Skinner's Office  
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC**

"Sir, Special Agent Mulder would like to see you."

Skinner sighed. He was up to his neck in reports and knew he'd be taking at least a third of them home with him tonight if he didn't manage to get a few uninterrupted hours in the office. He rubbed a hand over his bald head. To be honest, he missed Mulder's bizarre theories and reports. Despite the dubious content they were a lot more interesting than the normal run-of-the-mill surveillance reports that crossed his desk and had made life a little more exciting. That thought startled him. At the time he had suffered a constant headache trying to follow the convoluted scientific explanations that Dana Scully had put forward against Mulder's outlandish theories while performing a ritual danse macabre with the shadowy Morley Man. Yet now, he missed the challenge. Until today, it had been far too quiet since Mulder had been reassigned to Kersh. In fact, the number of X-File reports that had crossed his desk since Spender and Fowley had taken over could be counted on the fingers of one hand... and none of those had been followed up. He made a mental note to look into that.

"Send him in."

Mulder bounded into the office like a man on a crusade. Skinner knew that look well and pointed to the seat opposite.

"What is it, Agent Mulder?"

"I have a list of names... all Missing Persons..."

Skinner held up a hand to halt the flow.

"If this is another 'Alien Abduction' theory then I have to remind you that you are no longer assigned to the X-Files..."

Mulder paused, his teeth, momentarily, worrying his lower lip as he considered his options before finally deciding to tell the truth.

"Okay, sir. I do believe these men have been 'abducted' by aliens but, if you let me show you some photos, you might understand why it's important I follow this up."

Walter Skinner leant back in his chair, hands raised in an expansive gesture. His eyes narrowed with each photo laid in front of him, his forehead creasing in realization. As the last photo was displayed, Skinner looked up into the serious face opposite. He held up a hand as Mulder opened his mouth.

"You think they're all dead... killed because of their likeness to Krycek."

"Yes, sir. All the disappearances have taken place over the past five years, since he went on the run with the DAT tape. I know the Consortium is in collusion with the aliens. The Consortium may have mistaken these men for Alex."

Skinner grimaced. He really didn't know what to believe. There was no proof that aliens existed but he had the utmost respect for Mulder and knew something must be going on otherwise why waste all the time, money and effort trying to discredit the man, albeit on a small scale. It occurred to him then that discrediting Mulder on a global scale would have a detrimental effect, pouring unwanted attention on those very theories they were trying to suppress. He sighed. No matter what the truth of the matter, he had been ordered to have no professional contact with Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.

"Missing Persons is not your area of responsibility. Where did you get this information?"

Mulder glanced up, his hazel eyes holding the dark ones of the AD in defiance.

"The name Michael Anacek was sent to me in an unmarked envelope. I put the rest of it together by accessing the Missing Persons database." Mulder paused, pursing his lips in mild agitation. "His disappearance was reported just over a week ago. I'd like to check it out before the trail goes cold."

Skinner nodded his head. It was these intuitive leaps that made Mulder one of the FBI's best agents - if not the most infuriating but now came the hard part. Mulder and Scully had been reassigned to AD Kersh's Domestic Terrorism department checking out requests for chemicals that could be used to make explosives. Missing Persons and Homicide did not come under that remit.

"I appreciate you bringing this to my attention but I'll have to assign people from this department to investigate. It's the best I can do."

Mulder pushed back the chair as he sprang to his feet. He leaned forward on Skinner's desk; the aggressiveness of his stance was not lost on the AD.

"With all due respect... sir, that's not good enough..."

"Agent Mulder. You are about to cross the line. I would think very carefully before you utter another word."

They held each other's eyes momentarily; unrelenting hardness in one set, anger in the other until Mulder backed down, the sullenness of his expression a true indicator that he had no intention of letting the subject drop.

Skinner flinched slightly as coldness crept into the usually warm, hazel eyes. He raised a hand to forestall Mulder's explosion.

"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder, but you no longer report to me, it's not within my power to assign you to the case."

Mulder stared hard into the deep brown eyes as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning in the dark depths but Skinner was giving nothing away. Recognizing the dismissal, Mulder turned away without another word.

Walter Skinner swallowed visibly. The whole thing had left a sour taste in his mouth but he had his orders to make no special dispensations for his former agents and approaching Kersh to reassign the pair, even temporarily, would be tantamount to disobeying that order. However, he could ensure that this connection between the missing men was investigated, recognizing that it was fear for his lover that had driven Mulder to his door. His meeting with 'Morley Man' proved the Consortium knew Krycek had resurfaced in the US and he realized it would only be a matter of time before they found him.

Skinner dropped his head into his hands, fingers massaging his temples where the telltale signs of a massive headache were beginning to make themselves known. Despite his own continuing anger at the ex-FBI agent, Skinner felt he owed it to Mulder to try and protect his lover. He looked up, pressed the intercom button and spoke to his secretary.

"Kimberley. Please send for Agents Harris and Davidson."

***********

Mulder stormed back to his desk and dropped into his seat, cursing himself for believing Skinner would help him. If he'd kept his mouth shut then he could have done a little more investigating himself but he had put his faith in Skinner.

"Damnit."

He slammed his fist on the desk, wincing slightly at the pain that jarred along his arm. The soft, familiar sound of his partner's voice floated over his shoulder in inquiry and he swiveled in his chair to face Scully.

"I just blew it with Skinner. I thought I could trust the man but..." He slouched over and put his forehead on the desk.

"What is it, Mulder?"

Dana Scully perched herself on the edge of his desk and waited, knowing Mulder would tell her in his own time. She watched as he raised his head from the desk, an embittered smile toying about his mouth. He stared at his own reflection in the darkened computer screen for a moment and then turned anxious eyes to his partner.

"Alex's life is in danger and there's not a damn thing I can do to about it. I think that Cancer ridden bastard knows Alex is here... and now it's only a matter of time..."

Mulder straightened up suddenly and grabbed his cell phone. How could he have been so stupid? There had to be a good reason why this name should arrive on his desk today. It was a warning. He punched the speed dial and mumbled to himself as the answer phone message cut in. His listened impatiently to the sound of his own voice.

"Pick up the phone, Alex. Come on, take a chance and pick up the phone..." As the brief answer-message ended Mulder spoke louder. "He knows you're here."

***********

The journey back to his apartment seemed to take forever and Mulder found himself leaning on the horn on more than one occasion as he impatiently negotiated the early evening commuter rush. Eventually he pulled up outside his apartment block and jumped out of the car. Fingers fumbled with the key and he decided against waiting for the ancient elevator and took the stairs three at a time. The hallway leading to his door was empty and, as he hurried along the narrow corridor he could barely make out the sound of the other inhabitants except for the occasional muted hum of a television set. He slid the key into the lock on his door and turned it slowly, keeping his tall frame to the side just in case he had unwelcome visitors, though why he expected them today was pure paranoia. The arrival of the plain manilla envelope had given him the jitters - not for his own sake but for his lover's.

The door swung open on newly greased hinges...one of the differences between him and Alex. He preferred the grating sound that would pre-warn him of some intrusion; Alex preferred the well-oiled silence so he could slip in and out of the apartment unheard, thereby reducing the chances of him being seen. The silence within the apartment was unnerving. Had Alex heeded his warning and gone to ground... or was there a more sinister reason for the heaviness of the dead air? He moved from room to room, watching for signs of an unwanted third party and, simultaneously, dreading finding something or someone. He pushed open the kitchen door, concerned that it was shut... something that neither of them ever did, his breath hitching as the unmistakable smell of blood assailed his senses.

"Alex!"

He knew, the moment he stepped into the room, that a body had lain in the pool of dark red, viscous liquid that was spread out across the kitchen floor and that left too many thoughts crowding around his head. Whose body? Was it Alex or someone injured or killed by Alex? Where was Alex? Did he escape? Was he now a hostage... or was he dead, his body taken away by his murderers?

Mulder sank into the seat at the kitchen table and stared at the pool of blood. Fear coiled heavily in his stomach. He should have contacted Alex earlier... before going to Skinner.

***********

 **Two Hours Earlier  
2630 Hegal Place  
Apartment 42  
Alexandria**

The sound of Mulder's answering machine kicking in had brought his head around. He never picked up the phone, not wanting to advertise his presence but he always listened in on the call just in case. He moved closer to the phone the moment he recognized Mulder's voice, his hand hesitating as he reached for the handset. The message was brief and to the point... and Alex went instantly on his guard, senses reaching out to encompass his surroundings. With silent, graceful movements he gathered up a few necessary possessions, pulled on Mulder's leather jacket and stepped into the kitchen. He took the spare gun from the drawer where it had been left for safekeeping.

Cradling the Glock 9mm with silencer in his hand, he sat at the small table in a position that gave him a clear view of the only entrances yet afforded him some protection. Mulder's message had insinuated that the Consortium knew he was back in the States but whether or not they knew of his current location was another matter entirely. So he sat silently, gun resting on the table, fingers curled around the handle and trigger and waited for someone to show; hoping it would be only Mulder who came through the doorway.

Time passed slowly until the quiet click of a door being opened and then closed brought his head snapping up, his ears straining to hear soft footsteps. He smiled malevolently. There were three sets of footsteps so, unless Mulder had brought home some very quiet company, he knew to expect the worst.

The barrel of a gun came through the doorway first, the hand following was definitely male and, to Alex, easily identifiable by the coarse dark hairs and the single lucky charm hanging from the thick gold chain that dangled from the wrist. He recognized Roberts, one of Cancerman's goons who was a nasty sadistic piece of work who loved to torture his victims before carrying out a death sentence. Alex gave the man no time to take a bead on his position and shot where he knew the heart would be. The man tumbled forward into the kitchen, the single shot finding its target.

Wasting no time to admire his handiwork, he jumped up and climbed through the kitchen window onto the fire escape. The street below was empty so he leapt down the metal stairway using the hand bars to control his flight, reaching the final landing in moments. Foregoing the retractable ladder, he leapt over the side, dangling for a moment before allowing his body to drop the remaining distance to the ground. He ran on, pausing at the entrance to the alley, head whipping around the corner to check for any other goons but the clatter of feet from the fire escape forced his hand and he stepped out of the alley, moving swiftly along the street.

The sound of a car pulling up close behind him sent him running hard, angling down another garbage-strewn alleyway. He could hear the sound of pursuit as the car knocked aside trash cans and cardboard boxes. Alex cursed when he saw the tall mesh fence ahead, shoved the Glock into his inside pocket and leapt, his fingers grasping the wire. He scrambled up; thankful he had spent so much time rebuilding the strength in both of his arms. Behind him he could hear the sound of a car door opening and running feet. A hand grabbed at his ankle, scraping against his booted foot and he kicked clear, making the top and swinging his body over, hoping the pursuers were too involved in their attempt to grab him to have weapons drawn. He dropped the eight feet to the ground, landing awkwardly as a bullet zinged passed his side sending a sharp, burning through his body. Ignoring the pain, he gained his feet and ran. Behind him he could hear a deep male voice cussing.

"Put those fucking guns away! He said 'alive', you fools."

The booming voice was still audible as Alex high-tailed it down the alleyway. He heard the man order the others back to the car but knew at least one of CSM's goons had breached the fence and was on his tail.

Racing around the corner he encountered his first piece of luck. The street was crowded with people watching an altercation between the owners of two vehicles that had collided. Alex dove into the small crowd of about twenty people and gradually made his way to the other side. Glancing back he could see goon number two jumping up onto the base of a street lamp so he could see above the heads, narrowed eyes searching the crowd for his prey. Alex pulled a baseball cap out of his pocket before slipping off his jacket, revealing a pale green T-shirt, hoping he may have altered his appearance enough to fool the other man. But there was something else he had been practicing, something he had not yet shown Mulder... and now seemed the appropriate time to use this new-found skill. It took a lot of concentration but, somehow, he managed to remould his features and shape, changing the color of his hair and compacting his body to a slightly different configuration. CSM's man brushed right passed him, barely registering the stout, auburn-haired man with the startling green eyes. The man slapped his gun against his thigh and moved off, pushing his way through the crowd to a waiting dark sedan.

Alex concentrated hard on maintaining his disguise as he watched the occupants exchange heated words before the other man climbed inside. A puff of blue smoke curling out through the slightly opened window told it's own story. The sedan took off slowly, with the eyes of the three men inside glued to the outside scene, still searching for sign of their prey. Once the car drifted out of sight Alex released the hold he had on his body and felt it ripple back into its true configuration.

Ignoring the confused expression on the man closest to him, he headed back through the crowd the way he had come and ran quickly for the bus just pulling up to a stop. It didn't matter where it was going as long as it took him well away from the search area. He slumped into a seat by the exit, keeping his head lowered and breathed a sigh of relief as the bus picked up speed.

***********

 **2630 Hegal Place  
Apartment 42  
Alexandria**

Waiting.... how he hated waiting. He could be a patient man when necessary but fear for Alex set him pacing through the apartment. Mulder threw himself onto the ancient leather couch, his head bouncing back as it hit the upright. The sun had begun to set behind the tall buildings opposite and Mulder watched the shadows lengthen across the floor until the room was lit only by the light from the fish tank.

Silence... the apartment seemed so silent to him now. He could still hear the muted sounds of life beyond his four walls, the whispers of television sets, the soft footfalls of people moving through the corridors but these were not the sounds he had become accustomed to. He strained to hear the sound of Alex puttering in the kitchen making coffee, the rustle of paper as Alex turned the pages in a book, magazine or newspaper. That made him smile. He'd never thought of Alex being a bookworm but the man seemed to soak up the written word and never seemed more relaxed than when he had his nose deeply buried in a book. The latest title lay discarded upon the low coffee table. Mulder reached for it, turning the battered paperback over in his hands before placing it back onto the table. He glanced towards the door... nothing... no one.

Other remembered sounds filled his mind and he cocked his head as if the memory alone could bring them back. He missed the soft grunting breaths as Alex pushed himself to complete the punishing fitness regime... and the gentle humming that seemed to follow Alex around the apartment. It was hard to believe that a man who had spent so many years on the run could make so much noise. Many a time, Mulder had stood outside the bathroom door listening to the surprisingly good tenor voice that floated above the spray of the shower while the vision of an angel in Alex's form danced through his mind.

Mulder flicked on the reading lamp and watched as the encroaching darkness was pushed back into the corners of the room. In only a few short weeks Alex Krycek had brought his own form of light into Mulder's life. He had quickly grown used to the ready smile that greeted him each morning and to the arms that reeled him in, soothing away the tension of another wasted day. He adored the soft lips that would claim his own, sucking gently, tongue probing delicately... and those clever fingers... ten clever fingers... that would ease the constricting tie and push the jacket from his shoulders when he came home.

It was hard to believe the gentleness, the sensuality of the man when all he had seen before was a hardened assassin. Hard to believe those pure notes that filled the air in song could deepen to a husky, sexy voice full of lust and need. His eidetic memory mapped the strong body; the wide shoulders, the smooth almost hairless chest; the silky softness of inner thigh beneath his fingertips.

"Alex... where the hell are you?"

The darkness seemed to encroach once more, filling his mind as well as his sight until....

A soft voice was crooning nearby and he could hear the rustle of paper, of pages being turned in a book. Mulder smiled.

"Alex?"

He rolled over and sat up, glancing across to the easy chair where Alex liked to sit with his legs tucked up beneath him. Sunlight streamed across the room, reflecting off the radiant smile and dancing green eyes. He couldn't remember crossing the room but didn't care. Everything he wanted was here. His fingers carded through the long strands of mahogany, mesmerized by the red-gold shimmering in the brightness. His fingers were captured and brought to a kiss-ripened mouth. A glint of white between those pink lips held him motionless as first one finger and then another was drawn into that velvet cavern. Soft vibrations against the sensitive tips as Alex moaned in delight. His fingers were released and a husky voice breathed his name over and over. Mulder closed his eyes as licks of energy traversed the length of his body.

I'm in heaven...

The soft notes of a harp reinforced the thought...

His eyes opened suddenly and he gasped into a darkened room. A quick check on the illuminated display of the VCR showed that several hours had passed; he had fallen asleep on the couch. Mulder cocked his head to one side, trying to capture any sense of what had awoken him and then it registered. He moved quickly to the PC set up on his desk and checked. He had mail; the soft harp music announcing the arrival of a single message.

Shaking off the remnants of his dream, Mulder opened the message... 'Dusk 'til Dawn'. He frowned at the cryptic words and then it clicked. Moments later he had grabbed his coat, keys and gun and was striding to the door.

***********

 **Somewhere On The Waterfront  
Washington DC**

When Mulder was certain he had not been followed he turned towards a seamier part of the city near the waterfront. Eventually he found himself standing beside a small booth at the back of a seedy bar, his eyes raking the slightly bedraggled figure of his lover. Mulder reached forward and grabbed the collar of the leather jacket, pulling Alex out of his seat. A sharp incline of his head towards the back of the bar indicated his intent.

Alex followed him into the surprisingly clean washroom, his eyes widening in surprise when Mulder turned suddenly and grabbed him once more; forcing him into one of the private compartments. He was pushed onto the closed toilet seat as Mulder twisted round to close the door and bolt it.

Mulder dropped to his knees in front of his lover, simultaneously parting the muscular thighs so he could wrap his arms under the leather and around the strong torso. He sighed against Alex's chest, oblivious to the slight wince as he listened to the steady beat of his lover's heart thrumming beneath him. Slowly, he matched his own erratic breathing to the rise and fall of the chest. Fingers dragged through his hair and he felt the whisper touch of a kiss on the top of his head.

"I missed you too."

Alex felt the chuckle that shook the body pressed against his own. Gradually, Mulder pulled back, tilting his head so he could gaze into his love's stormy-green eyes. Those eyes fluttered closed as Alex leaned forward taking his mouth in a gentle kiss of reassurance. Mulder tightened his grip as Alex moved to pull away, the gentleness fading, as all the fear of the last few hours possessed him. He crushed his lips against their counterpart, forcing them to open and welcome the blunt invader that licked and probed the heated interior. A tremor reverberated through their joining as Alex moaned in desire.

Alex's eyes opened to slivers as a hand insinuated its way between their close pressed bodies. He felt the fingers deftly pop the button and then slide down the zip of his jeans. Mulder released his mouth, his hands urging the younger man to wriggle slightly so he could free the burgeoning erection.

A wicked smile dashed across the agent's face, the tip of his tongue teasing beneath the foreskin before he bent to deep-throat the rigid shaft. Above him he heard Alex gasp as Mulder took up a strong sucking rhythm. One hand on his hip prevented him from bucking into the hot mouth. He threw back his head and bit down hard into the side of his own hand to stop the whimpers turning into screams as the intense pleasure peaked, short-circuiting his brain.

Mulder swallowed greedily, trying to capture every last drop of the bitter ejaculate before he released the softening organ, his lust-filled gaze drinking in the exposed column of throat. After an eternity had passed, Alex tipped his head back down, eyes still tightly closed, breathing still heavy and erratic but slowly coming back under control. When the heavy lids finally opened, there was barely a glimmer of green around the dilated pupils and Mulder believed he had never seen anything more beautiful than that sweat-sheened, satiated, angelic face.

Gentle fingers caressed his cheek, stopping at the corner of his mouth to pick up a spilt droplet. Mulder watched as Alex licked the droplet from his own finger. He grinned up at the still stunned expression and rose to his feet. With quick movements he dropped his pants. Alex leaned forward and pressed his mouth against the cotton-covered bulge, the pressure eliciting a stronger response as the tumescent flesh grew harder still. Alex pulled down the briefs to release the circumcised head, his tongue darting out to flick across the sensitive glans, his teeth softly grazing the sensitive skin before he opened his mouth to take in the engorged flesh.

Mulder sighed in frustration as the gentleness continued. He rocked his hips, hoping to coax Alex into a stronger rhythm but the teasing went on. Ever so gradually, a slow, burning sensation curled in his belly, slowly radiating outwards. His limbs felt heavy, soft and languorous as the heat spread to the very tips of his fingers and toes. When annihilation came he felt as if he had been momentarily suspended in time and space before a wave of passion rolled over him, crashing him back down to Earth in a torrent of ecstasy.

His knees buckled and he was grateful for the strong arms that supported him until he could regain control. Alex stood up, closely pressed against him in the restrictive compartment as they shared the taste of each other in a deep but gentle kiss.

They froze at the sound of someone stumbling into the washroom, waited, motionless as statues until the man finished relieving himself and stumbled back out into the bar. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief that the man had been too drunk to notice two pairs of feet beneath the compartment door.

"We ought to go back out."

"Yeah."

Mulder unbolted the door and headed for the urinal. He followed Alex out a few minutes later and slid into the seat opposite his lover. They stared at each other for a moment, suddenly at a loss for words. Mulder cleared his throat.

"So. How did you know I'd remember this place?"

Alex smiled. They had come here once while partners following up a lead on a drug case. He had relied on Mulder's eidetic memory to make the connection when reading the cryptic email he had sent. Mulder frowned when he realized Alex was not going to answer that particular question; instead, Alex hailed the barman.

"What happened, Alex?"

Alex waited until they had a drink in front of them before he related what had happened at the apartment after Mulder's warning. His eyes were guarded as he mentioned killing one of the uninvited guests, watching the play of emotions across the all too expressive face.

"Did you recognize any of them?"

Alex exhaled sharply. "Of course. They were the Smoker's men. The one I killed worked with me on a couple of assignments. Name of Roberts." He looked deeply into the hazel eyes. "I don't regret killing him. He was a nasty piece of work. Got better than he deserved... certainly better than he dished out."

Mulder looked away. It was one of the few things he had yet to reconcile with Alexei Krycek. Alex had killed although, once more, it may have been in self-defense. However, there was still one part of Alex's story that did not ring true.

"I don't understand how they could have walked right past you."

It was time to explain the extra gift the Englishman had bestowed upon him. He gazed deep into the worried, quizzical eyes and took a deep breath.

"A new arm wasn't the only thing I got."

Alex willed his features to change; the concentration needed making him miss the incredulous look that spread across his lover's features. Alex looked back from a new visage into the wide-eyed, astonished look, held the new configuration for a moment longer and then let go until it was the dark-haired, angelic face that Mulder knew so well staring back.

"Anything else you haven't told me?"

Alex shook his head slowly. "Not that I know of." He took a sip of the cool beer, licked his lips and replaced the glass on the tabletop. "Now it's your turn. Why the warning?"

Mulder related the sequence of events that started with the arrival of the manilla envelope. He pulled copies of the seven Missing Persons reports from his coat pocket and spread them out on the table. Picking up the first, he handed it to Alex, waiting for a reaction.

A frown deepened the crease over the bridge of Alex's nose as he stared at a face so similar to his own.

"Scully did some digging... found some personal information on each of the victims... and I got the Gunmen to correlate any unusual paranormal activity occurring at the time of the disappearances."

The frown turned to puzzlement until Mulder held up the pieced together document from Spender's trash bin and placed it alongside Michael Anacek's report.

"Colonists?"

"Who else. What I can't understand is why... and that's why I want you to lie low. Skinner may have refused me official permission to investigate but he doesn't control my own time. Scully's agreed to spend the weekend in Barter's Grove."

"The woman needs a life of her own," Alex muttered under his breath, eyes downcast so he missed the beaming smile generated by his statement.

"Are you jealous?"

"No! No... envious. I would rather you were spending the weekend with me."

"I know. Me too."

Alex looked away in embarrassment. This was still all too new to him. He was still expecting to wake up and find it was all just an elaborate dream... a beautiful dream, admittedly, but still just a dream. He covered his embarrassment by picking up one of the other reports.

"I'll take this one."

When Mulder made no sound, Alex glanced backup to find warring emotions flitting across those expressive eyes. Mulder began to shake his head.

"No. It's too dangerous. What if this is a trap? A way of getting you out into the open."

Green eyes softened as Mulder's concern for his well being washed over him. It had been a long time since someone cared enough to want him safe. Most of those who had helped him over the years had not done it out of the kindness of their hearts; they were fulfilling their own hidden agendas, expecting a return for the favor.

"I can't just sit around twiddling my thumbs..." He smiled, his eyes darting down to the new hand, "... no matter how enjoyable the sensation. I can help here, Mulder. I can go places you can't; talk to people who would kill you before you could ask the first question."

Mulder relented.

"Okay. But keep in touch... somehow."

"Perhaps that's what we need to talk about next."

They spent the remainder of time at the seedy bar setting up a communications system that would enable Mulder to get messages to Alex and vice versa. It was not perfect but it was the best they could do under the circumstances. The method was not secure. Using the Internet never was but a series of passwords would, hopefully, ensure no one could send a message that could lead either into a trap.

The parting was painful. Had it only been two weeks since Alex had become such a major part of his life? It seemed as if they had spent years together and Mulder knew he would miss those strong arms wrapped around him as they drifted into sleep. He would miss the beautiful smile that greeted him first thing in the morning.

With one last look Mulder climbed into the cab he had called from the bar.

***********

A large shadow detached itself from the darkened side of the building. He had backed off when he saw Fox Mulder walking towards the exit having previously maintained a good view of the interior through the grimy window. His square jaw set into a close-mouthed smile as he watched the unsuspecting human climb into the back of a cab and head off into the distance.

Following the son of William Mulder to this place had been so easy. Mulder had taken no notice of the man who followed him to the bus stop; had walked pass the mature woman who had taken a seat two rows in front. He had barely even glanced at the series of men and women who followed him from bus to subway to bus to taxi as he took a circuitous route to this bar.

The Bounty Hunter was used to following a trail as convoluted as this one and Fox Mulder had not disappointed him as he shadowed the human to this seamy part of the city. He had gambled that the FBI agent would eventually lead him to his true quarry. He had waited patiently outside the seedy bar watching the two figures through the dirty windowpane, pleased that his gamble had paid off. The Smoker wanted this other human, and had already tried to retrieve him without success.

Want. A strange human word with various shades of meaning. Want. To wish to acquire. Want... to desire sexually.

Yes. The Smoker desired this young human but it wasn't a healthy kind of 'want'. Not that he cared. He had been given a task and, soon, he would fulfill it. The Bounty Hunter felt a momentary stab of annoyance. He resented having to do these pathetic little tasks for these pathetic little humans but his orders were quite clear. His service was part of the 'deal' made between the Consortium and his own people, the Colonists.

After the cab had disappeared from view he returned to his previous watching place. He smiled when he saw the dark-haired human rise from his seat near the back of the bar. Following Mulder had not been a challenge despite the agent's wariness but this human seemed to have an acute sixth sense. Somehow, he was able to see through all the disguises. The Bounty Hunter wondered if this was a throwback to the time when the human had been taken over by one of his immature brethren or whether the years on the run had heightened his senses in the name of self-preservation. Whichever, he knew he would have to be quick to capture the human, using the element of surprise. He watched as Alexei Krycek shrugged on the leather jacket and made his way towards the back of the bar. The Bounty Hunter frowned. He had checked out the building and there was only one other exit but the human was not moving towards it. His mouth quirked up in one corner as he realized the human's destination. He waited, expecting to see Krycek walk back out of the washroom anytime.

The sound of a motorbike engine being gunned brought another frown and he raced around the side of the building in time to see the familiar figure speed off. With an almost human sigh he turned back, spotting the partially opened window at the back of the building. This time Krycek had gotten away but there would be another time.

***********

 **Saturday Night  
Barter's Grove**

The multi-colored lights and strobes brought back memories of Oxford where he and some of the other undergraduates would charge into one of the small discotheque-pubs every Saturday night, spending the evening doing the inane things prevalent to most young males on the prowl. He had met Phoebe Green on one of those outings; had fallen for her dark, patrician looks and her sharp intellect, ignoring the advice of friends who said she was a class-A bitch. For two years she had used and abused him until he finally decided to start defending himself... then she had dropped him in favor of another 'sap'. It was years later that he was able to take a step back and analyze their doomed relationship and her need to control every situation. He grimaced. Shame he had not turned that psychoanalyst 'shit' upon himself. Maybe then he might have avoided falling into the clutches of yet another dark-haired, manipulating, class-A bitch; Diana Fowley. His introspection ended with a sharp dig of an elbow into his side. He looked down to find Scully glaring at him.

"Why are we here?"

Scully mouthed the words, not even attempting to shout above the sound of the jukebox which was playing a recent Cher hit... very loudly.

"Because..."

Mulder gave up, forced to resort to sign language. He pointed across the interior to an empty table at the far end of the bar. He and Scully gently pushed their way across the dance floor through the sweaty, gyrating bodies. They flopped into the chairs in relief. Back here it was a little quieter. They gave the waitress their order and scanned the crowd until the drinks arrived.

Scully took a sip of her tequila sunrise as she waited to see what her partner was going to do next. Mulder picked up his own drink and took a gulp of the cold Bud, smacking his lips in appreciation.

"That hits the spot, Scully."

That well-sculptured eyebrow rose again in disdainful resignation. She rolled her eyes away, wondering for the nth time why she was sitting in a noisy bar on a Saturday night in a dead-end town while the rest of that raunchy Jackie Collins novel was waiting for her at home.

"Hey, Scully. Was that a Jackie Collins novel in your bathroom?"

Her startled eyes turned back to him, suddenly pleased about the lack of decent lighting, which would conceal the blush that heated her cheeks.

Damn! How does he do that?

She remembered him asking to use the bathroom when he picked her up early this morning and knew his photographic memory had probably taken a snapshot of what he'd seen... but how did he time it so well? How did he manage to pick the exact thought from her brain?

"Deduction, Scully. You looked like you had something far better to do on a Saturday night... and having a half-read novel by the bathtub after your previous comment about going home for a bath and tequila..."

"Okay. Okay. I'll admit that I enjoy your company, Mulder, but there are times and places. As I said before... Why are we here?"

Mulder gave her that all-knowing grin, gulped down the remainder of the beer and beckoned to the waitress. When she arrived he held out a twenty-dollar bill, holding on tight as she tried to take it, bringing her head down close to his.

"I'm looking for Paul Bright."

The waitress straightened and then pointed to a flamboyant looking man dressed in a red suede jacket, pale silk shirt and light slacks.

"Keep the change."

She smiled her thanks for the huge tip and walked away. Mulder motioned for Scully to stay seated as he unfolded his long frame from the chair and made his way across the room to the pimp.

"Hey, there! I'm looking for a man..."

The pimp eyed Mulder, noting the expensive watch.

"Well, you've come to the right place. There's plenty around here to choose from..."

"No. Not just any man. This one was about my height. Dark hair, green eyes. Went by the name of Michael. He... provided a service last time I was in town. Thought I'd look him up again."

The pimp's expression went from suspicious to lewd as he took in the ring on Mulder's left hand. He was well acquainted with married men who used business trips to indulge in their passion for other men, leaving the little wife at home and oblivious.

"So who's the broad?"

"Work colleague."

The man eyed Scully suspiciously but he smiled, acknowledging the boredom in her expression. Only a work colleague would be brought to a dump like this... never a wife.

"Well, I can't help you. Michael found himself a sugar daddy. Left me high and dry - except for my other studs. Hey, Leon! Come on over and say hello to..."

Mulder held up a hand.

"No... I was kind of only interested in Michael. My type. You know what I mean?"

Mulder gave a sly wink and felt sickened by the man's counter expression of camaraderie. Leon approached seductively. Mulder wanted to shrug off the arm that draped around his waist but this Leon was quite a big guy... not someone to mess with.

"Who was this 'sugar daddy'?"

"You're mighty interested in Michael... Are you a cop?"

"No... it's just... Michael looks a lot like someone I knew... and..."

The man smirked.

"Substitute meat, hey! Well, have no idea who the man was. Older guy, graying. Smoked a lot. Now, unless you're interested in finding another substitute soul mate..." The man's eyes trailed over Mulder's athletic body lewdly. "... or joining my stable?" The man leered. "Guy as good looking as you could make a lot of money..."

"No. Thanks."

Mulder turned away and walked back passed the table, surreptitiously motioning for Scully to follow. She grabbed his arm and steered him off in a more circuitous route to the exit. They didn't stop moving until Mulder was safely behind the wheel of his car with Dana beside him.

"We made it out of there in good time. I saw Agents Harris and Davidson from Skinner's department on the far side of the bar."

Mulder pursed his lips feeling, suddenly, a little perturbed. He thought he had made a grave mistake going to Skinner; thought the man would ignore his theory connecting the seven missing men but, instead, Skinner had kept his word and assigned some agents to the case.

"Did they see us?"

"No... I don't believe so. Anyway, what did you find out?"

"It appears Michael was last seen in the company of someone older, grayer... who smoked a lot. Ring any bells, Scully?"

***********

Back to index

  


Part 2 by Tarlan

  


 **Same Time  
An Alleyway Behind A Bar in Detroit**

Alex shoved the man up against the wall, forcing the gun under the ribs into the soft abdomen as his forearm pressed hard against the man's windpipe.

"The only blow job you're gonna get is from this gun... when I blow you away. You know, I don't care for your kind. You're trash... lower than trash. So... Are you gonna tell me what I want to know? Or are you gonna die?"

The loan shark shook, terrified by the ferocity of the assault, by the feral gleam in the narrowed green eyes.

"Yes... Okay, I'll talk. Please."

The man croaked pleadingly and then sagged when Alex removed his arm but not the gun.

"Davey owed some people some money. He liked to gamble: borrowed some off me to pay his debts. Believe me, I'm not such an ogre... not like some of the big boys."

"Stop sniveling."

"Yes. Sure. Okay. Last I saw of him he said he'd figured out a way to pay me off."

"How?"

The man licked his lips and gave a pathetic leer.

"You know... by doing that... Personal services."

"Personal services to whom?"

"Look. I don't know any more. Jeez, it was years ago... Okay. Okay." The man cried out as Alex dug the gun in hard. "I only saw the go-between; the driver. A man who would be in his mid-thirties now; a blondie."

"What about the man he was chauffeuring?"

"I didn't see him. He kept to the shadows in the car. Chain smoker though."

Alex released the man abruptly, pushing him aside.

"Get out of here."

He watched as the man scurried away down the alleyway, constantly looking back over his shoulder as if certain a bullet would be winging its way the moment his back was turned. When the man had disappeared around the corner, Alex took off in the other direction, heading back to the nondescript hotel room. On the way he saw something very, very useful.

Alex was grateful for the rise in the Internet café market. He slipped into a seat near the back where he could keep an eye on all the patrons and on the door. He logged on under a little known username; the one he had asked Mulder to contact if anything happened. It took a few minutes but he spent the time sipping the strong black coffee brought over by the young waitress. Eventually, he located the message board. Alex pursed his lips. Mulder wanted to meet; had given a location. He checked his watch and calculated how long it would take him to reach the rendezvous. There was still time but staying here any longer was not a great idea. He had no idea if the Smoker knew of this particular Internet ID but was not willing to take the chance.

He took a last gulp of coffee, replaced the cup and slipped a few dollars under the saucer. Moments later he was putting as much distance between himself and the café as he could... just in case. He paid his hotel bill in cash, not wanting to use any of his various credit cards in case they were being monitored.

Alex shoved his meager belongings under the pillion of the bike and set off back towards DC. As he rode, he thought... and the more he thought, the more he became convinced that there was more to these disappearances that met the eye. He had a theory and Mulder was not gonna like it one bit.

***********

 **Saturday Night  
Barter's Grove**

Agent Harris shoved his FBI ID card at the barman, motioning towards the similar wallet being displayed by his partner, Davidson. The barman snarled in annoyance and jerked an arm out towards the back of the bar where Paul Bright still held court amongst a small group of people.

The man eyed the approaching agents suspiciously. He recognized 'law enforcement'; prided himself on being able to smell a cop a mile away. He pushed the pretty young man hanging onto his arm aside brusquely as FBI identities were held in front of his face.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure..."

"Don't worry, sir. We're not here to arrest you. Agent Harris and myself are investigating the disappearance of a Michael Anacek..."

"You and everyone else."

"I'm sorry, sir? Have there been other inquiries?"

"Yeah... in fact you just missed someone asking the whereabouts of Mikey. You know what, I'll tell you the same thing I told him. Mikey ran out on me. Got himself a sugar daddy; older guy, chain smoker from what I could see."

"What about the other guy?"

"What other guy?"

"The one who was just asking about..."

"Oh him. Look, he was just some out-of-towner looking for a rematch..."

"Humor me. Give me a description."

"Tall, good-looking white boy. Wouldn't expect him to have to pay for sex. He had a broad with him. A lovely petite redhead. Looked pretty pissed off being dragged to a dump like this."

Harris gave a nod to Davidson and the other agent went off, checking through the bar for a couple that fitted that description.

"Could you identify this older man..."

"No. Only ever saw his hand and a brief flash when he lit up the next cigarette. Now, unless you plan on charging me with something..."

Harris closed his notepad with a terse smile. He was surprised to have gained this much information out of the man and decided not to push his luck any further.

"Thank you, sir. You've been very helpful."

He circled through the bar, meeting his fellow agent on the other side. A shake of the head and the grim set mouth showed a lack of success. They checked with the doorman, discovered a couple matching that description had left several minutes earlier. Harris wrote down the details in his notebook and they headed back to their car.

***********

 **Another Seedy Bar  
Washington DC**

Although he could see Mulder seated at a table near the back of the bar, Alex waited and watched from the shadows. He saw Mulder check his watch for the third time, recognized the worry that tightened the full lips but some sixth sense was screaming at him to stay back. He felt uneasy but apart from a few well-soused customers and the bar staff there was no one else around. Years on the run had taught him to take the tingle that raised the hairs on the back of his neck seriously but, eventually, the need to gaze into those beautiful blue-gold eyes overpowered his survival instincts. He sauntered forward and, with another surreptitious look around the near-empty bar, he slid into the seat opposite his lover.

"About time!" The relief on Mulder's face was just as evident in the soft voice.

"Miss me?"

"Always."

Alex lowered his eyes away in embarrassment. He was not used to having people admit they worried about him and he'd spent too many years making sure no one got close enough to care; pushing away anyone who tried. So how did Mulder manage to squeeze passed the barriers he had erected? How had this man managed to succeed where all the others had failed? And there had been others, enticed by a pretty face and a good body. Alex gave an inward sneer. Oh yes, he knew he was good looking, and he had used that knowledge to his advantage many a time. Thoughts of Marita Covarrubias crossed his mind as he remembered using sex as a means of gaining her cooperation and assistance in escaping Russia with the boy. She had been good between the sheets; a she-cat whose nails left scratch marks down his back... and she had not been repelled by his prosthesis. If anything, he believed it might have turned her on all the more; giving her the controlling edge in their encounter.

Bitch!

"Alex?"

Alex looked up into the worried face.

"It's okay. Just a trip down memory lane... and talking of trips, how did yours turn out?"

Mulder eyed him suspiciously; recognizing an attempt to move away from whatever thoughts had occupied his lover's mind for that brief moment in time. The temptation to dig in his heels and force Alex to expose those thoughts was strong. He wanted to know everything about this man: every thought, every memory. He wanted to soothe every hurt; laugh with him at every good time; give comfort for every bad time. He wanted to possess this man, body and soul. Alex was like a drug; a growing addiction and some of that obsession must have shown in his eyes, but instead of being frightened, an equal measure of ferocity and obsession darkened the green eyes. Eventually, Mulder broke the hold they had on each other as he described his encounter with Paul Bright, Anacek's pimp.

"Older man, graying... heavy smoker. If I was a betting man then my money would be placed on a certain cancerous bastard." Mulder sat back in his seat. "What did you find out?"

"Same thing. Last seen with an older man... chain smoker."

"I don't understand it. All those men disappeared without a trace. Even Cancerman's goons couldn't have mistaken all of them for you..." Mulder paused as a strange look came over his lover's face. "What is it?"

"It is me."

Alex looked away at the puzzled expression. It was time to shake another skeleton from his closet, to expose the theory that would make or break their relationship.

"When I was first recruited, I was a little green. I had this idea that I was going to save the world and I... I kind of idolized the man who recruited me."

Mulder noticed the blush that swept across the averted features, tingeing even the tips of the slightly pointed ears but the thinned lips showed it was due to more than just embarrassment... and then it hit. He remembered Alex telling him that the Smoking Man had recruited him so...

"You had a crush on Cancerman?"

The incredulous tone brought Alex's head spinning back until their eyes met. The chagrined expression told the rest of the story and Mulder felt his heart stop cold.

"You slept with him?" No answer except a slight pursing of lips. "You fucked that cancer-ridden bastard?"

Alex's eyes slid away from the accusing glare, darting around to check no one had heard the slightly raised voice. His thoughts were a whirl. Should he tell Mulder that it had been more than a one-night stand? That he had been at the Smoking Man's beck and call for years before his assignment to work with Special Agent Fox William Mulder had opened his eyes to the truth. The look on Fox Mulder's face told him that this was one subject that needed to be brought out into the open or any future they might have together would be lost.

"I think this is one of those times when you need to stop and listen before passing judgment."

He paused and sighed at the implacable posture Mulder had taken with arms folded, lips a thin line and eyes glaring in anger. Was it even worth trying? Something inside told him to start talking knowing that Mulder would hear even if he was not prepared to deal with it right now.

"I was young... impressionable. I believed him. Believed in what he said we were doing... that it was for our country." Alex looked imploringly at the man who meant more to him than life itself, pleading with Mulder to understand how naive he had been. "It wasn't lust and it certainly wasn't love. I can't explain. Hell, you're the psychologist." He paused but Mulder made no effort to relent. "The first time... I let him seduce me. It was a power thing. This... this... powerful man... at my mercy. Then, as time went by, it became a force of habit, climbing into his bed whenever he commanded like a good little soldier, afraid of the consequences if I said 'No'."

Alex looked deep into the cold eyes, hoping to see some sign of a thaw.

"That night on Skyland Mountain, when Duane Barry handed Scully over to... them. That's when the last embers of my innocence flickered and died. Watching you climb out of the cable car, terrified you would fall. The next time he requested my... personal services I said 'no'. After that events just seemed to spiral out of control and I wasn't surprised when I found myself sitting on top of a car bomb."

Mulder unfolded his arms and placed his hands flat on the table. Now the initial shock had worn off he could understand how someone... how Alex... could get suckered into a relationship with that man but he wasn't ready to deal with it. He needed time to think. He closed his eyes to shut out the pleading green eyes but opened them again quickly. Mulder leaned forward.

"Okay. This is something we're gonna have to talk about... another time... but you still haven't explained why these look-a-likes have disappeared."

Alex's eyes dropped to the tabletop, finding his hands far too interesting. He licked suddenly dry lips and cleared his throat before looking back up. His voice was so soft Mulder had to strain to hear the words above the sound of the jukebox.

"He wants me back."

"He... what?" His eyes opened wide in confusion, capturing his lover's. Alex swallowed hard, cleared his throat again and then repeated the words more firmly.

"He wants me back. He wants me to go back to him."

Mulder frowned, wondering how Alex could make such a connection; suddenly aware that there was something else Alex had not told him. He was about to ask when that final scene at BioTechnics with Cancerman took on a whole new light....

*****

"Oh, I think you know, Alex. Don't tell me you haven't told Mr. Mulder about our 'relationship'"

"We have no relationship."

"Don't we?"

*****

Mulder remembered being confused by the interplay between his new lover and his old enemy. At the time he had wondered what game Cancerman was playing, wondered whether Alex was more than just a subordinate. The Consortium had seemed so... incestuous. He had considered the possibility that Alex was related to the Smoking Man, biologically, and had intended to ask later but events had spiraled out of control. At the time he had tried to defuse the situation by addressing the clones whose weapons were trained on him and Alex but it was Cancerman who had replied.....

*****

"So which one of you is the real Martha Hudson?"

"Neither. She outlived her usefulness... just as you have outlived yours... unless Alex can persuade me otherwise."

***********

He closed his eyes, sick to the stomach as the thought of Alex in that bastard's arms filled him with disgust. Disgust at Alex for ever having been so naive; disgust at Cancerman for taking advantage of an idealistic young man... and disgust at himself for having something else in common with that man. As much as he needed to deny it, they both wanted Alexei Krycek and, if Alex was right, then Cancerman was involved in these disappearances... but would the older man be willing to kill for what he wanted? A thought flashed through his head like lightning, stunning him. Would he be willing to kill for Alex? The iciness that stabbed at his heart at the start of this revelation thawed. Yes. He'd kill for Alex; he would die for Alex.

With his mind no longer clouded by anger, the answer to his original question became apparent. These men had paid the price for looking like Alexei Krycek but as substitutes rather than as the result of mistaken identity. Only one question remained. Why did these men disappear? Perhaps they became the Smoker's companions... until he grew bored with them or until he resented the fact that they were not his Alex. Mulder had no illusion as to what had become of them once the Smoker had grown tired of them. He was not the type of person to leave himself open to personal attack or blackmail. It seemed Cancerman might have a lot more blood on his hands than Mulder had previously assumed but there was only one way to find out. Somehow, he had to find enough evidence so he could confront the man.

Another thought occurred. Michael Anacek disappeared just over a week ago; maybe he was still alive. But where should they start looking for him? Only one man of Mulder's acquaintance seemed to have an inside track on Cancerman but Mulder was still uncertain whether he could place his trust in AD Walter Skinner.

Mulder glanced at his watch. It was well after midnight and he was expected back in the office in less than six hours. He reached out and placed his hand on top of Alex's. His body burned at the sight of that angelic face but the image of Cancerman and Alex writhing together in sexual abandonment dampened the flame.

"I have to go. We will work it out, Alex. I'm positive. I just need time to think things through." After taking a quick glance around the bar to ensure no one was watching, Mulder leant forward and placed a chaste kiss on the bowed lips. "Sit tight for a couple of days while I figure things out. I'll be in touch."

Mulder pulled on his coat and walked away, glancing back only once as he closed the door behind him. Alex sighed and took another sip from the glass placed in front of him. He let his forehead drop onto his raised palms.

"At least he didn't shoot me on the spot."

His head came up fast as a bulky figure slid into the seat recently vacated by Mulder. Green eyes widened as they took in the square-jawed features of the alien morph. Trigger fast reactions took over as he swept the remainder of the beer into the creature's face, using the momentary blindness to make his escape. The morph came hurtling after him but Alex grabbed one of the bar's customers and threw the man into the alien's path, hearing the curses and thump of a heavy body landing awkwardly behind him. His action bought him enough time to reach and start the bike. Moments later he was racing away at top speed. As soon as he had put some distance between them Alex pulled up. Abandoning the bike, he broke into the nearest car, jimmied the starter and was moving off at the fastest possible speed that would not draw unwelcome attention. Eventually, he turned onto the interstate heading northwards towards New York where he would lie low for a few days.

***********

The Bounty Hunter brushed dirt from his suit as he watched the red tail lights receding for the second time but, this time, he had come prepared, not willing to take any chances with this particular human. He climbed into the dark sedan and activated the tracker. A small red blip highlighted Krycek's position through the tracking bug placed under the pillion on the bike.

He frowned when he noticed the bike had remained stationary for several minutes. Moments later he turned a corner and found the abandoned bike. A smile broke across the normally bland face as the hunter offered his silent respects to his cunning prey. As he walked back to his car the morph decided it was time to change the game plan. He had tried to keep clear of Fox Mulder, being under orders not to kill the son of William Mulder but that did not mean he could not hurt him a little.

***********

 **Monday Morning  
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC**

Mulder spent most of Monday morning expecting to be hauled into either Kersh or Skinner's office; had spent the whole of the previous day preparing a speech just for the occasion but, now, he was starting to relax.

Relax? If I read any more of these reports I'll be so damned relaxed they'll have to call the paramedics to check I'm still breathing, he thought.

He started to make a paper airplane out of one of the many staff circulars that kept appearing on his desk, having previously tossed the sheet aside in contempt.

"Scully? Do I look like the kind of guy who needs 'Assertiveness' training?"

Scully unfolded the paper airplane that landed on her desk and speed-read the article. She raised both eyebrows, scrunched up the paper and dropped it into her 'dead' file. A small sign of activity brought her head back up and she began to hum a few bars from her favorite sitcom 'Friends' as AD Kersh sauntered into the bullpen. Mulder took notice of their prearranged signal. He piled a few files over the top of the papers on his desk to hide the list of names and addresses that he had printed out earlier. Then he picked up one of those boring reports, pretending that he had been engrossed in the latest acquisition request from some Tennessee farmer. His eyes widened in pleasure as he read the address, hardly believing his luck as his eidetic memory tagged the town name as being the same as that of the first victim.

"Hey, Scully. Check it out." He passed over the file. "I think we should pay Mr. Markham a visit."

Scully frowned, wondering whether Mulder actually meant what he was saying - or whether it was just a show for their new boss who had just come into earshot. She handed back the file noncommittally.

"Something, Agents?"

Mulder looked up, almost in surprise as the smooth, chocolate-smooth voice drifted over his shoulder. He knew AD Kersh was in the room but he hadn't expected the man to come so close. He certainly hadn't meant for his remark to be overheard. He looked up into dark, uncompromising eyes.

"Uh... yes. Mr. Markham has made several purchases over the past..." He flicked through the report. "...seven months. More than I would deem necessary for the size of the farm. It might be worth a visit."

Kersh took the file from Mulder and scanned the top sheet. His lips pursed and he nodded his head slowly. It wasn't an exceptional amount but...

"Okay. Get onto it. I'll expect a full report this time tomorrow."

Mulder barely restrained himself from showing his surprise but, not being one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, he picked up the phone and started placing some calls.

***********

 **Markham Farm  
Near Jackson, Tennessee**

The slight breeze ruffled his hair as he stepped from the rental. Dana Scully looked across at her partner noticing the way his eyes were drawn to the fields of timothy grass surrounding them. Thoughts of a similar field standing tall with ripening corn filled her mind but the farmhouse behind them bore no resemblance to the domed structures at the center of that particular field. She pushed a stray lock of auburn hair back behind her ear.

"Mulder?"

He turned to face her, gradually losing that faraway look as hazel eyes locked with blue. The screech of a screen door opening caught their attention and they made their way towards the large-framed man dressed in faded blue jeans, white cotton T-shirt and red/brown checked shirt who stood waiting for them on the porch.

"Can I help you folks?"

"FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder... and this is my partner, Agent Dana Scully."

They both flashed their ID's waiting until the man had taken a good look before snapping the small leather wallets closed and restoring them to inside pockets. The man looked from one agent to the other in surprise.

"What can I do for you?"

Mulder put on his official smile.

"Just routine..."

One hour and several cups of coffee later they had learned all there was to know about the usage the chemicals were being put to and yet Mulder felt strangely disturbed about... something. Something was not quite right; some answers delivered too smoothly as if quoted from a script.

"Do you keep bees?"

"Pardon?"

Scully turned surprise-widened eyes to her tall partner as her own confusion matched that of the farmer.

"Bees. I noticed the jars on the side." Mulder indicated the row of neatly labeled jars filled with a golden syrup.

"Sure, but if you're wondering about those killer bees then don't. They haven't been spotted this way... and I keep a close check on my queens, make sure no foreigners get into the hive."

Scully raised an eyebrow, understanding Mulder's line of questioning but amazed that he thought this small farm in the middle of nowhere could be linked to the Colonists. She knew the farmer was referring to the aggressive African strain that was gradually making its way north from South America, where an accident had set them free. She could not prevent a shiver as she remembered the bees in the white dome flying up through the floor grates in a dense swarm... and her dash to reach safety. She also remembered that it was a bee sting that had introduced the Colonist DNA into her system. The memories following that incident were decidedly hazy but... she looked up at her partner's profile in tenderness... Mulder had not deserted her.

"If that's everything..."

Another official smile raised the corners of Mulder's lips.

"Sure." He turned away, heading for the door and then turned. "By the way, Mr. Markham. Have you heard of a Martin Leighton?"

"The Leighton boy? Yes. That boy was bad news. Got mixed up with the wrong people. There was talk of drugs... of other unsavory things. Then the boy just upped and disappeared."

"Were there any rumors about where he could have gone?"

The man's face froze; mouth thinned, eyes hardened.

"Jeff Leighton's a good friend of mine. His boy and mine used to play together. What that boy did broke his mother's heart."

"He's still listed as missing."

The farmer paused as if debating something. Mulder watched the small war being played behind the man's sky-blue eyes. A decision was made; the features relaxed and Mulder knew he was about to learn something new.

"The night he disappeared old Frank Burrows spotted a fancy motor at the Griffin Motel down the roads away. Said he spotted the Leighton boy at the motel about the same time. Both motor and boy were gone by morning. Some round these parts say it was some rich man enticing the Leighton boy back to the city with him."

Mulder's breath came faster. There was no mention of a Frank Burrows in the Missing Person report.

"I'd like to talk to this Frank Burrows..."

"Can't. He died a few days later in the dangdest accident. Fell under the wheels of a combine. Chewed him up and spat him out."

Mulder nodded his head, eyes closing in frustration. If what he suspected was true then it had been no accident. Cancerman had tried to be as thorough as ever, leaving no witnesses behind.

"Did he say anything else? Give a description of the car? The occupants?"

"He didn't see the man except from a distance. Older guy. Heavy smoker. That's all."

Mulder's eyes narrowed slightly. He could tell from the way Markham's eyes shifted that there was more.

"Sir, is there anything else you want to tell me?"

Markham opened his mouth then shut it quickly. He debated whether it would be wise to mention the strange activity occurring barely ten miles north of the farm; the unusual choice of corn as a main crop; the black helicopters that sometimes flew over the farmhouse in the middle of the night. The official stance was it was some kind of research facility working on GM methods. Manipulating the genetics of foodstuff seemed all the rage these days and he'd heard strange tales of introducing fish DNA into tomatoes to preserve firmness. The Leighton boy had disappeared a few months after the strangers started to appear at the local motel. It was common knowledge that the owner of that fancy car had stayed at the motel several times... and the Leighton boy had been there every time... but no-one dared say that out loud. Even the Leighton's had become close-mouthed on the subject after someone had approached the Bank regarding Leighton's sizeable debt. Life around here was tough enough without having to worry about the Bank foreclosing on you.

"Nope. There's nothing more I can tell you."

"Thank you, Mr. Markham."

"Sure thing."

Mulder drove several miles before pulling off the road. Ahead of them was the small town where Martin Leighton had gone to school, taken his first hit; where he had probably found his first client to help pay for his drug habit. The small motel where he had last been seen was several miles beyond. Mulder wondered whether they had any vacancies this night.

***********

 **Griffin Motel  
Near Jackson, Tennessee**

For the second night Mulder found himself alone in bed and he hated it... and then he hated himself for being so needful. How had Alexei Krycek become so important to him so fast? It was not that long ago that he thought he hated the man's guts... had sworn he would find something to ensure Alex was put away for life. During those long weeks when he had remained uncertain as to Alex's fate at the hands of the Rebel aliens he had spent many a night staring up at the ceiling. He had been trying to pinpoint the exact moment when hate had turned to love only to realize that it had always been love. He'd fallen for the geeky, green rookie with his slicked back hair and cheap suits.

He had basked in the adoration he had found in those stormy-green eyes, letting down his guard in face of the innocence he thought was in front of him and Alex had seeped through his lowered defenses gradually entwining himself around his heart, invading his thoughts and his dreams. It was the seeming betrayal that had smothered that fledgling love with hate and it was the truth, finally offered... finally believed, that had banished the hatred revealing the emotions buried so deeply, offering those emotions up to the light. Yet still this did not explain the depth of emotion he felt for the other man. It did not explain why he missed Alex with every fiber of his being.

His hand reached out to stroke the mattress beside him. Fingers met cold sheets and he sighed as he visualized the strong, warm body that had lay beside him these past few weeks. His photographic mind provided images; thick, sable hair framing a face softened in sleep, sweet lips parted showing a hint of perfect, white teeth... dark eyelashes flickering as the quicksilver mind was captured by a dream. Sometimes he would lie there wondering where those dreams had taken his lover, more so when those dreams turned to nightmares. On those occasions he would pull Alex into his arms, stroking the fear-soaked skin, soothing his lover with a litany of softly spoken words until Alex slept peacefully once more.

Eventually he slept but his own dreams mirrored the fears of his waking life. Twisting, dark corridors... hazy shapes squirming inside long dead corpses... bony, clawed fingers reaching out to grab at his clothes as he scrabbled passed. He was searching, frantically. Faces he knew floated out of the darkness and he hesitated. Some were enemies, others friends but none were the face he was seeking. He saw Scully, her eyes frozen open in disbelief and he paused, torn between his love for her and his need to find another. A sensation brought his head around and, for a moment he thought he could make out the fine-boned features.

Alex? Alex? "Alex... Alex.... Alex!"

His voice became louder as the fear grew. He began to thrash as unseen hands grabbed at him, smothering him and then...

"Ssshh... sshhh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

Mulder's heavy eyelids opened. He blinked several times until he was certain the face barely a few inches above his own was the face he needed to see.

"Alex?"

He saw the glint of white teeth in the semi-darkness and felt the caress of warm fingers carding through his sweat-soaked hair.

"That was some doozy of a nightmare, Mulder. Wanto to tell me about it?"

Mulder ignored the husky voice whispering close by, concentrating instead upon the warm breath upon his face. He sat up quickly, nearly head-butting Alex in his haste, the sheet falling to his lap.

"What are you doing here?"

"I-I needed to see you."

"Alex, we agreed it wasn't safe for you. Meeting earlier was enough of a risk. What if I'm being watched?"

The dark-haired, ex-assassin smiled, his eyes crinkling as he gazed at the semi-nude man before him. His fingers reached out to brush lightly across one exposed nipple, the smile broadening as a soft moan tumbled from Mulder's succulent lips. He closed the distance between them, his own lips caressing Mulder's, his tongue sneaking out to stripe across the warm flesh before plundering the dark depths of Mulder's mouth. Mulder pulled back, surprised at the almost feral assault.

"I missed you."

Widened hazel eyes began to soften and glow with pleasure as Mulder gazed upon the man he could finally admit he loved beyond reason. He had spent most of the previous night mulling over Alex's confession of his past indiscretions. At first he had been angry, not wanting to admit to the jealousy that inflamed him as he imagined his beautiful lover lying wantonly beneath his nemesis. Thoughts of those nicotine-stained fingers caressing the silky skin; carding through the dark strands of sable hair; stroking along the muscular torso sent his stomach churning. With morbid fascination he had visualized those seamed lips wrapped around his lover's engorged flesh, sucking and licking. The thought repelled him even as the image of Alex writhing in passionate abandonment beneath Cancerman drew him back. Finally, after hours of inner turmoil, a moment of clarity came. He realized that it didn't matter what Alex had done before... and with whom. All of that was a past that could never be changed or even forgotten but it was the past. It was the present and the future that truly mattered and as long as he would be the only one from this time onwards, Mulder knew he could allow the past to fade behind them.

Soft, nibbling kisses along his jaw line drew him back to the present... and to the fingers that danced along his flesh, teasing his nipples and raising goose- bumps as they trailed across his rib cage and over the flat of his stomach. He moaned in appreciation of the attention he was receiving from those expert fingers and the hot mouth that nuzzled against his throat, allowing the other to push him to the bed until his body was covered by hot naked flesh.

"So good. So beautiful." Alex whispered softly as his tongue rimmed the shell of his lover's ear.

Mulder smiled to himself. It was so rare for Alex to feel safe and secure enough to break the silence of the night but he loved it when Alex became verbal, hearing that husky voice whispering sweet sentiments and endearments as they slowly thrust against each other. He groaned as welcome warmth radiated from the pit of his belly, his semen spurting between their close-pressed abdomens, as the world seemed to fall from under his feet. A fresh flood of warmth across his belly accompanied the loud gasp as Alex came against him.

Mulder allowed himself to drift away to the sultry tones floating in the air around him, feeling a heavy lassitude pulling at his limbs and senses.

"Mmmmhhh?"

"I said, we need to make arrangements to meet up. I've got something for you but it wasn't safe to bring it here."

Mulder opened one eye and fixed it on the beautiful green ones poised only inches above his own. He smiled in complete satisfaction.

"Where do you suggest?"

"You know where I am. Come to me there, tomorrow at 05:00."

"You mean today."

Mulder motioned towards the luminescent digital clock sitting alone on the bedside cabinet. It was just a little after midnight. He frowned slightly when he didn't get the expected response to his teasing.

"This is serious, Mulder. You do know where I am, don't you?"

"Yes... at that poor excuse for a bar on Fifth."

Alex pulled back slightly, suddenly lost in thought. He smiled... a strange smile that reminded Mulder of the early years. It was the smirk he had detested from the first time it had been aimed at him; the smirk he had taken great delight over the years in trying to wipe off Krycek's face.

"Yes. The bar on Fifth with the pathetic neon sign of two males kissing."

"I do know the..." Mulder's peeved retort paused mid-sentence, his brows pulling together in a frown of confusion and apprehension. Somewhere, at the back of his mind, a warning flag was waving frantically.

"Alex?"

The face above him rippled, the body broadening in all directions until Mulder found himself pinned beneath the muscular bulk of the alien Bounty Hunter.

"You've been very helpful... in more ways than one."

Mulder's hazel eyes widened in horror and he pushed ineffectively against the greater mass. His last thought as a powerful fist smashed into the side of his head was that he had betrayed Alex... in all ways.

***********

 **3 A.M.  
Manhattan, New York City**

The light from the neon sign flickered through the curtainless window, illuminating the pale walls and ceiling in alternating crimson and azure. Alex lay sprawled naked across the top of a small, lumpy bed staring up at the light display upon the ceiling as his thoughts drifted back to his last meeting with Mulder. It was a mistake telling him where he was staying but Mulder seemed so desperate to know. Tomorrow he would move on. He should never have returned in the first place but that would have seemed like a kind of betrayal... and he had betrayed Mulder too many times already. He had sworn, on his mother's grave, that he would never betray Fox again but it wasn't safe here anymore.

He thought about the old war films his father enjoyed watching. There was always some comment about it being darkest just before dawn. Over the past few years he had come to understand that it was more than just the eerie silence of pre-dawn; there was a heaviness in the night air that pulled at your very soul.

A creak upon the floorboards outside his dingy room pulled him back and he reached for the ever present Glock tucked under the pillow behind his head, feeling reassured by the weight in his hand.

Nothing. No other sound reached him. Probably just the normal noises of the building settling in the quietness; a noise that only seemed noticeable in the dead of night. He sighed deeply and released his hold on the gun.

The sharp crack of splintering wood stopped his heart momentarily but before he could strengthen his grip around the handle and swing the barrel around, a large, dark shape had sprung forward, landing on him, forcing the air from his lungs. Strong, thick fingers pried the gun from his hand and he heard the sound of metal thumping against the wall beneath the window as the gun was hurled aside.

For a moment the only sound was the harsh panting as Alex struggled to regain his breath but by the time he had managed to drag some air into his lungs, the bulky frame had pinned him down completely. The Bounty Hunter's eyes closed, an unfamiliar smile curling his lips as the heady scent of this human filled his senses. His triumphant voice whispered seductively into Alex's ear.

"Tonight I discovered human pleasure."

He traced a path down the side of Krycek's face with his tongue, lapping at the corner of the tight-lipped mouth. Beneath him, Alex began to thrash, hoping to lever off the more massive body but to no avail. The Bounty Hunter laughed quietly, feeling his human form respond to the stimulating gyrations of the body beneath him. He felt his human sex organ lengthen and harden, relishing briefly the discomfort of close-fitting pants before thinking away the clumsy garments to leave his bare flesh rubbing against his captive. Sensitive nerve endings flared in response to the feel of his heated skin sliding over the warm body. He pulled Krycek's arms together above the dark head until he could hold both wrists within one large hand, freeing the other to explore the muscular contours of a human whose body was prized by two other males; one old, one young. He moved one massive thigh, forcing it between the young human's legs, pushing the human's thighs apart until he could settle groin to groin. His hand swept down the length of Krycek's body from shoulder to mid-thigh before sweeping up the inner thigh. Fingers trailed through the outer edge of the patch of crisp dark curls. He lowered his head to plunder the beautiful mouth, hissing in annoyance as Krycek turned his head away.

A large hand came up, grasping Alex by the chin, forcing his head back and holding him in place as a mouth, almost drooling with lust-borne saliva, clamped over his own. A thick tongue forced its way between his closed lips, pushing against his tightly clenched teeth. The hand on his chin tightened until he was forced to open his jaw, allowing the invader to fill his mouth. Alex gagged as the tongue forced its way to the back of his throat, the hand on his jaw preventing him from biting down hard on that unwanted organ. The 'kiss' ended abruptly.

"Yes. So sweet. So beautiful."

With horror, Alex felt his legs being pried further apart; the bulk of the alien settling between them. He renewed his efforts to free himself as his hands were released, battering the large frame with his fists as his legs were pushed back, exposing him to the Bounty Hunter.

"No. No."

"Yes. So very beautiful."

Alex prepared himself for the worst, knowing he could not prevent what was about to happen. He frowned as something small pushed inside him then gasped as the 'something' gradually expanded, stretching the small muscle slowly until he felt his innards would explode from the pressure of the huge bulk filling him.

The Bounty Hunter began to rock slowly, savoring each sensation as sensitive nerve endings rubbed against the walls of the hot, tight channel. The sensations grew stronger, harder... more intense than he had experienced with Mulder and he screamed out as they overtook him, igniting his whole body and mind. He collapsed upon the still resisting body, feeling his weight crush Krycek into the overly soft mattress. Feeble struggling alerted him to the predicament of the smaller human and he pushed off to the side. A flicker of energy passed from his hand into his captive and he felt Krycek's body go limp. He climbed off the bed and reconfigured human clothing around his massive frame. With more gentleness than seemed appropriate, he leant down to stroke the pretty face.

"Yes. So very, very beautiful. If my orders were otherwise..."

With only a flicker of remorse, the Bounty Hunter wrapped Alex in the coverlet and carried him out of the room to a waiting car.

***********

 **8 A.M.  
Griffin Motel  
Near Jackson, Tennessee**

Mulder moaned as a cool flannel was placed over his forehead. His eyes opened slowly, trying to make sense of the blurred figure above him. The flame of light catching in the red hair stirred a memory.

"Scully?" He croaked, eyes widening as he cleared his throat to try again.

"What happened, Mulder?"

Mulder pushed her away gently as he slowly raised himself to a sitting position. He swung his legs over the side of the bed; hands clamped either side of his throbbing skull.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"I knocked at your door fifteen minutes ago. Didn't get an answer so I came in and found you unconscious on the bed. It looks like someone hit you."

"It feels like it." Mulder groaned anew and then the memories came crashing back. "Alex!" He tried to stand and fell back to the bed. Scully was by his side in an instant, holding onto his elbow to steady him.

"Whoa. Take it easy, Mulder. You've taken quite a blow to the head." She stepped in front of him and examined his eyes with a small torch from her medical bag. "Slight difference in dilation. You've got a light concussion..."

"Scully, I told him where to find Alex. I thought he was Alex."

Bewilderment shone in the cerulean blue eyes and Mulder could tell by her expression that she was consigning his ranting to the result of a head injury.

"The Bounty Hunter. He was here in Alex's form. Tricked me into giving up Alex's location. We've got to get to New York. Got to warn Alex."

Dana Scully took a step back as she put all the facts together. The telltale signs of sex filled the room; the musky smell, the mussed up sheets and sticky patches on them and on Mulder's lower body. The Bounty Hunter had taken more than information from Fox Mulder and she realized the fallout from this would not hit until later... and when it did she would have her hands full dealing with a guilt-ridden partner. She took a deep breath. The Bounty Hunter had several hours head start and she wondered whether she ought to mention this now or let Mulder rush to New York in the belief that he would be in time to save Alex. Her hands trembled as she took another deep breath, reaching out to bring Mulder's attention back on herself.

"We won't get there in time."

Mulder glared at her, his mouth opening to deny her softly spoken words but he turned away without a sound, his eyes closing in dismay. She was right. He could only hope Alex had been on his guard, that he managed to evade the relentless pursuit until Mulder could bring him, somehow, to safety. With jerky movements he started to pull on his clothes.

"We'd best head back..."

"You'd better shower first, Mulder."

Fox Mulder glanced down at the sticky semen coating his lower body.

"Oh God. What have I done?"

Dana bowed her head, It seemed like later had become now.

***********  
 **9 A.M.  
Washington DC**

The Bounty Hunter entered the darkened hotel room, ignoring all of its occupants, and placed the large bundle he carried effortlessly over his shoulder onto the bed. Spender took one final drag of his cigarette and then ground it out in the nearby ashtray before slowly standing and moving to the other side. He reached out and pulled back the fraying coverlet to reveal a shock of dark hair. Pausing, he looked up into the Bounty Hunter's impassive features and smiled before returning his attention to the coverlet. Another small tug revealed the face that invaded almost every waking thought and most of his dreams; the sleep-softened features as beautiful as he remembered. He trailed one nicotine-stained finger along the darkly stubbled jaw.

"How long will he remain unconscious?"

"Until I awaken him."

"Excellent. Davis, make the arrangements." Spender looked back up at the alien morph. "I assume you will be accompanying us."

"Yes."

***********

 **11 A.M.  
New York**

They had been very lucky to find seats on an early domestic flight to JFK but the trip to New York passed by in a strained silence despite Scully's best attempts to draw Mulder into a conversation. Even after they landed, her taciturn partner had rebuffed every effort, choosing instead to concentrate on the road ahead as if he could will the other vehicles out of the way so they could make better time. His frustration was worsened by the fact that Scully refused to allow him to drive in his current condition. With every slow vehicle in their path, every traffic snarl up and every set of traffic lights set to red, she could see his knuckles whitening as he gripped the dashboard. Eventually they reached their destination. Mulder was out of the car and taking the front steps leading up into the seedy bar hotel before Scully could bring the car to a halt. She placed the vehicle in park and flew after him.

When she caught up with him she found him standing just inside the room, the lack of expression on his face its own testament to what he had found. Scully brushed passed him. On first impression the room just seemed empty but then she noticed all the little things that spoke of a former occupant and she knew Alex had been taken from there during the night by force, while Mulder lay unconscious. Her analytical mind summed up all the salient details in moments: the Glock lying abandoned on the floor by the window, a chunk of plaster and torn wallpaper showing where it had impacted with the wall. Clothes lay neatly folded on a chair; dark jeans, dark T-shirt, dark leather jacket... so common, so nondescript unless you knew the man who wore them like a uniform. The top cover was missing but signs of a struggle were evident in the remaining sheets that lay in complete disarray.

"He's gone. He took him."

Mulder reached out and gathered up the T-shirt, holding it tight against his face, inhaling the unique scent of Alex still clinging to the recently worn material.

"We'll find him, Mulder."

Fox Mulder turned to his partner and she took a backward step when she met eyes filled with an unhealthy cold rage. In all her years as his partner she thought she had seen every emotion cross his face: anger, fear, frustration, determination, happiness... love... but never had she witnessed this. The very air around her seemed to have dropped several degrees and she was thankful this emotion was not directed towards her.

"I know who has him. All we have to do is find that cancerous bastard... and I know just where to start."

Scully nodded, suddenly feeling very afraid for AD Walter Skinner even though she knew the man was on the level... and more importantly, on their side. Whatever happened she knew she needed to stay with Mulder, to try and anchor him... contain his anger... while they began the search.

"We should collect Alex's things together; take them with us. He won't be coming back here."

Scully nodded and reached out for the remaining clothes and the leather jacket while Mulder checked out the cupboards and cleared the bathroom of the few possessions lying there. He bundled everything into the small sports bag he had found in the top drawer of the bureau and then headed for the door with Scully right behind him. He stopped, suddenly, on the threshold, hardly noticing when Scully bumped into him. She watched as he turned back, walking straight to the bed, her eyes misting as his fingers brushed over the sheet where Alex must have lain.

Mulder sank to his knees and reached under the bed, dragging out a pair of shoes. The heat of his anger drained away when he realized they were his own favorite pair of Doc Marten's. His eyes crinkling momentarily with a smile before the full force of his loss hit him. He barely held back a sob, his eyes damp with unshed tears as he gazed back at his diminutive partner, suddenly feeling like he owed her some explanation.

"He always leaves his shoes under the bed... force of habit, I suppose, from the years on the run."

Scully nodded.

"Come on, Mulder. We'd best head back to DC. Start the search from there."

***********

 **11 A.M.  
Washington DC**

The tremor of distaste flowing through him was not an unusual occurrence but the reason for it was. The alien morph watched as the young, dark-haired human was placed carefully into a coffin-sized crate, soft padding supporting the unconscious frame, and the lid then firmly sealed. The crate was carried out of the hotel and to a waiting van under the watchful gaze of those rheumy blue eyes, smoke from the ever-present cigarette curling away in the slight breeze. His thoughts turned to the beings around him.

Normally, humans repulsed him, all humans, and yet there was something about the young male and, to a much lesser degree, his chosen partner that had attracted him; something that had inflamed his mind and body; a sense of... otherness.

He cocked his head to one side as he considered this 'otherness'. It was a scent; the scent of his own race upon them. He knew Mulder had been subjected to the DNA tests from a young age and could understand his allurement although he had always been careful not to get too close, not wanting to taint himself by association. He felt this allurement for all of the specimens of those tests but there was something different about this other human... an almost compulsive attraction to Alexei Krycek. At first he wondered whether it was subliminal residue from when Krycek had been taken over by one of his brethren... and then everything fell into place.

Spender had been marveling at the 'completeness' of the young human: his yellowed-fingers trailing down the baby-soft skin from biceps to wrist before raising the hand to his lips. No explanation had been given as to how Krycek had come to have his left arm severed from his body and the Bounty Hunter had no interest in knowing. However, the morph knew this world did not yet possess the technology to grow back a limb to the level of perfection obtained... but his people did.

He considered this as he sat in the back of the limo for the short journey to Dulles where a Consortium owned Lear jet waited, primed ready for take-off as soon as its passengers... and important cargo, were loaded. The human seated by his side made no attempt at conversation and he offered none in return. His thoughts turned to his traveling companion. Everything about this human repulsed him; the smell of the toxic drug he inhaled, the scent of his humanity, and the treacherous nature hidden behind those cold eyes.

As he ascended the steep stairs leading into the aircraft the morph paused and saw the crate being loaded into the far end. A ripple of satisfaction flowed through him, causing even more bemusement. Why should he care that the young male was being placed in the main body of the craft rather than the cargo hold? But he did care. He took his seat on the primitive craft, his thoughts still swirling around.

After take-off the Bounty Hunter left his seat and made his way to the back of the aircraft. He watched as the lid was removed from the crate and the unconscious body lifted from its prison. The scent was there; a strong intoxicating scent; the pheromone filling the re-circulated air. Yes. Now he understood. The male was no longer fully human; he was a hybrid. The morph knew the Consortium scientists had been working on producing a viable hybrid, the completion of that task necessary before Colonization could begin. As he drew closer, he quickly realized that Alex Krycek was not the answer. He was still too human. The blood running through his veins was red, not green and yet he felt more kinship for this hybrid than for any of the subjects currently being experimented upon. It did not take much more reasoning to understand how and, more importantly, why Krycek had been changed. The deceased Englishman had chosen Alexei Krycek as his protégé but what good was a one-armed apprentice who carried Colonist implants.

A quick wave of a device taken surreptitiously from his pouch proved his assertions were correct. The young male had no implants, although his 'brother' would have tagged him while in the silo... but Krycek did have altered DNA, presumably to counteract the destruction trigger, which activated on removal of the implants.

He watched as the dark-haired male, that he had taken such pleasure in, was washed before being placed back into the man-sized container. His thoughts once again dwelled on the perfection of the ivory skin, the softness of the shapely mouth with its deep Cupid's bow. His body remembered the overwhelming sensations as he thrust into the hot, tight channel, holding the thrashing body effortlessly beneath him. He thought of the other male that he had seduced to obtain the location of Alex Krycek. The feel of wanton abandonment as the other rubbed against him, not realizing the deception until far too late. How much more pleasurable would it have been if Alexei Krycek had come to him as willingly.

A puzzled expression crossed his face briefly before the lines smoothed out to leave the usual impassivity. No matter what he thought or felt, these two were still human... and humans were good only for slave labor and gestating his brethren. He turned away, moving back to his seat, viciously trying to subdue his body's reaction to the strong pheromones that assailed his senses.

**********

At the far end of the plane a man flicked a glance between the Consortium leader and the alien morph. Silently, he made a decision that might cost him his life. He flicked open an ultra-modern device and sent a message... nothing too obvious but enough to give Mulder the lead he needed to begin his search for his missing lover.

**********

 **6 Hours Later  
2630 Hegal Place  
Apartment 42  
Alexandria**

When he reached his apartment, Mulder's first action was to switch on his PC. He quickly entered his email account and scanned through the many messages hoping that, somehow, Alex had managed to escape and had tried to contact him. For once he resented the number of messages from the various UFO and paranormal lists he belonged to. Their presence made it all the harder to spot anything of far greater importance and, worst still, one of those hundreds of emails might actually contain the message he was looking for. He scanned quickly through the incoming mail, taking note of the senders, looking for anything unusual. One sender stood out amongst the rest, something about the name firing the synapses in his brain. He opened it and found a single line: a set of four numbers.

***********

 **Lone Gunmen's Headquarters  
Washington DC**

Sometime later Mulder stood with Scully by his side in the cramped office of the Lone Gunmen. The three computer... and conspiracy theory experts passed the printout from one to the other, each offering up ideas.

"A set of coordinates." Langly began to type frantically, his nimble fingers dancing over the keyboard like a prima donna, graceful and precise as he hacked into an overhead satellite.

"No...there are not enough digits in each set... this is something else... a code. Let's try replacing the numbers with an alphabetic sequence of characters. I've got several algorithmic programs designed to..."

Frohike snatched the paper and turned a contemptuous look upon his fellow Gunmen, often amazed that they would look for complicated answers when it was really so simple.

"It's an IP address... Internet Protocol Address to the uninitiated. It's the designation for a website..."

Mulder frowned and took a step forward.

"On the Web?"

"Not necessarily, a lot of company's have their own nets... but that's where we should look first."

The group gathered around Frohike as he input the coordinates to the unknown website.

"If this turns out to be 'Paranormals Are Us' I'm going to spam them."

As one, the others turned on hearing the venom in Mulder's voice, knowing he was not kidding and knowing why it was so important to him that this was a lead to the man he loved.

"Believe me, Mulder, if it is then I'll spam them myself." They watched as a site began to load. He was tapping furiously on the keyboard, composing weird sequences of keys. "This site is secured tighter than my spinster aunt's chastity belt.... Aaahhh... Well, what have we here."

"It's a database... looks like an inventory of some sort. See... there are sets of dates, probably orders taken, orders filled. There's a report feature..."

Byers leaned across, tapping the screen. Langly supplanted Frohike as soon as it became obvious what they were looking at but Frohike made no comment. They each knew where their strengths and weaknesses lay... and Langly's strength lay here. The report scrolled across the screen but Mulder had a sudden insight into what they were looking at.

"These are not customers; they're merchandise." He quickly scrawled a couple of names onto a piece of paper and handed it to Langly. "Check for these."

Only one name came up; Martin Leighton. Two dates were attached to the name; two dates that were six days apart. Working on a hunch Mulder wrote down another name. Langly looked up in surprise, glancing across at the diminutive redhead before starting the search on the new name; Dana K. Scully. When an entry appeared on the screen everyone except Mulder was stunned.

"What would I be doing in this database?"

"Look at the date, Scully."

She leaned over Langly's shoulder and peered at the single date entry. Her audible gasp was the result of memories crashing through her. Once again she was in the corridor outside Mulder's apartment, still reeling from the stressful flight from the bees and through the strange cornfield; remembering the thunderous sound of the black helicopters overhead. They had held each other's eyes in relief that they were still alive and Mulder had taken her in his arms, moving to place a soft kiss upon her lips. That's when she had felt the bee sting her. Anaphylactic shock came quickly... and so did the paramedic unit. Too quickly... but they had both been too busy fighting for her life to notice. Yes. She remembered that date.

"That's the day you were infected by the retrovirus through the mutant bee sting."

Mulder's eyes narrowed as his attention focused on the code placed by Scully's name. At first he had thought the field contained a key index but his eidetic memory gave him another description. It was the position on the Antarctic mothership where he had found Scully.

"Go back to Leighton's entry." Mulder pursed his lips as he read the details and then started scrawling several more names on a sheet of paper. "Try these names."

"What is it, Mulder?"

He turned his head to meet his partner's inquiring blue eyes.

"All the missing men, bar one, are on this database. All have two dates against them... six days apart..."

"Except for me."

"It's the gestation period. The Englishman said I had ninety-six hours in which to find you or it would be too late to save you. My bet is, after ninety-six hours the parasite they placed in you, or that the retrovirus developed into, would have grown large enough to start eating its host from the inside out. The second date is probably the date the parasite hatched from its host."

"And I thought our theories were way out of left field..."

Mulder ignored Frohike, his mind churning through all the information he had been given over the past few months and then it struck; the reason why Michael Anacek's name was missing from the database. The Antarctic mothership had left before his disappearance.

"That's it. That's what the sender is trying to tell me. There's another mothership. Langly, search for a second database."

Several minutes later they were staring at the name Michael Anacek on the screen. A single date had been placed by his name.

"Damn."

Mulder's soft exclamation seemed loud in the silent room. He knew that it was too late to save Michael Anacek. Another twenty minutes of searching gave Mulder what he wanted, the location of the second mothership.

 

***********

 **Consortium Research Station  
Sahara Desert, Tunisia**

The tall, green and yellow stems of ripening corn looked distinctly out of place amid the undulating sand dunes of the Sahara Desert. Conrad Strughold watched impatiently as CGB Spender stepped out of the newly arrived transport helicopter, hunched over slightly as he half-walked, half-ran towards him. He pulled a cloth over his face to shield it from the stinging sand driven into the air by the downdraft from the helicopter's double set of rotating blades. Once cleared the helicopter took off, its desert-camouflaged shape quickly disappearing into the distance leaving the man-made oasis in an eerie silence.

Strughold watched with curiosity as one of the off-loaded, man-sized crates was taken towards the administration area instead of into the mothership. He waited until Spender had paused beside him before indicating the anomaly.

"Personal business."

"As long as this personal business does not affect our work..."

Strughold trailed off pointedly, reminding Spender of the previous occasion when he had brought Dana Scully to the Antarctic ship. That event had ended in near-catastrophe as the alien ship was forced to flee Earth to ensure the safety of the new Colonists recently hatched from their hosts. He did not wish to see a repetition of that event here at the second 'nest'. It had taken a lot of persuasion to convince the Colonists that neither they nor the Plan had been compromised.

"In that case, I will leave you to attend to your... personal business. Do not forget to check in with Dr. Marron. Your pheromone patch must be applied."

Spender shook a cigarette out of the packet and placed it between his seamed lips. He cocked his head slightly as he flicked the lighter, inhaling deeply as the flame caught the tip, taking a moment to stare out across the vast desert and then he turned and walked away from Strughold towards the administration building. His eyes narrowed as one of his people came running towards him.

"Sir! Security has been compromised on the mainframe. Someone is hacking into the databases."

"How?" Anger heated the cold eyes. "The information is supposed to have the highest security possible. The firewall was developed by the best communications experts."

"I don't understand... they could only get in if they had the exact address. There is no other way without the correct codes..."

"Then we have a traitor in our midst."

"Not necessarily... anyone could write a program to make up and connect to IP..."

"If anyone could do it then why wasn't this considered in the security arrangements?"

"We needed global access... the chances of this happening were..." The man broke off, held the mobile to his ear and listened to another report. "They've located the hacker and are moving in as we speak."

Spender glared at the man. There was nothing more they could do but this was the second time their computer systems had been compromised. The Thinker, the man who had hacked into the Consortium files, had been killed for his actions but the loss and the subsequent messy recovery of the MJ-12 tape had almost cost Spender his prestigious position in the Consortium, and it had almost cost him his life.

"Keep me informed."

The man nodded and moved away briskly leaving Spender to brood darkly on this latest turn of events.

***********

 **Lone Gunmen Headquarters  
Washington DC**

The flashing red light caught their attention.

"Uh oh... trouble."

Mulder intense gaze stabbed into Langly, waiting for the scruffy man to confirm what he already knew. Their hack into the database had been noticed and the owners of that information had, somehow, tracked them down. If Langly's chagrined expression was not enough then the frantic actions of the other two gunmen was the final confirmation.

"Let's make like sheep... get the flock out of here."

"How?"

"Just follow us, G-man... and lady." Frohike turned to the others. "Escape plan Delta-2."

Frohike stood on a chair and pressed the exposed left nipple on the full-size framed poster of Barbarella. The entire poster, frame and all, swung away from the wall on hidden hinges to reveal a slightly smaller hatch with an even smaller hole placed centrally. Mulder watched as first Byers and then Langly hauled themselves into the hatchway dragging various technical paraphernalia with them.

"Your turn, Mulder. I'll follow behind Miss Scully."

Scully gave the little man a glare, noting the lecherous gleam in his eye. She pushed Mulder aside and clambered up.

"In your dreams, Frohike", floated softly behind her.

"Is that a date?" Frohike mumbled hopefully but Scully disdained to answer.

Once inside the small tunnel, Mulder twisted his upper body so he could glance back and realized the purpose of the hole in the inner doorway. Frohike pulled the hatch shut and, extending his hand through the hole, reached out to grip a small handle carefully positioned on the back of the Barbarella poster. A soft snick as the frame settled tightly back in place would leave no trace of their escape route.

Mulder turned back and began to crawl along the narrow vent, quickly catching up with Scully and realizing, from that interesting view of her pert bottom, the reason why Frohike had wanted to be behind her. He sniggered to himself as he remembered Frohike's disgruntled expression. A fantasy gripped him fleetingly; the thought of crawling through this vent behind the delectable, muscular ass of his lover lifted more than his spirits and then plunged him deeper into despair when he remembered his loss. He had to find Alex.

************

 **One Day Later  
Consortium Research Station  
Sahara Desert, Tunisia**

The heavy damask filtered the worst of the glare from the overhead sun reflecting off the pale yellow sand. A modern air-conditioning unit struggled against the ferocity of the midday heat but did little to lower the temperature beyond the barely tolerable. Spender sighed in relief nonetheless, the room was a good fifteen degrees lower than the temperature outside.

Davis checked the bonds holding the unconscious man to the bed, testing each in turn before nodding his satisfaction to his employer. A glance towards the door was his command to leave so Davis headed out, closing the door behind him.

Spender moved to the bed and glanced down at the familiar naked body stretched out upon it; a body he had spent many a night fantasizing about. He sat down beside the unconscious younger man and reached out to trail his fingers along the smooth flesh, his memory racing back through the years to the younger versions of them both.

Alexei Krycek had seemed to be one of those lucky finds; a brilliant, strongly patriotic boy full of life and enthusiasm... determined that he would be the one to change the world. The intensity of his beliefs had made him easy prey and the fact that he was also very beautiful made him a temptation that could not be ignored. Spender sighed as he remembered those early years when he had used the boy's exuberance to entice him into his bed. It was never love... unless love could be defined as the insatiable need to slake his lust within that beautiful frame. No...it was obsession, addiction. The heat in those piercing green eyes would stoke the inferno; the total abandonment as Alex submitted to his caresses would fire his soul.

He brushed an errant lock of sable hair from the tall forehead. Those eyes were closed; the heavy curtain of dark lashes concealing their jewel-like brilliance.

Obsession.

He should have known he could not keep an intelligent creature like Alex tethered to him by lust alone. The boy had come to him to glory in Spender's god-like power over the lives of millions. When he had started to reveal himself, piece by piece, as just another human pushing to stay not just alive but on top in the face of the imminent annihilation of the human race, he had seen Alex gradually turn from him in revulsion. Where Alex had hung on every utterance, suddenly he was questioning. The small inconsistencies becoming glaring holes in the fabric of lies he had woven around the youth. Teaming Alex up with Fox Mulder had been a make-or-break decision. Either Alex would do the Consortium's bidding or he would be drawn into Mulder's search for the truth. His eyebrows drew together as a thought occurred to him. Who was it that said hindsight is always 20-20? With hindsight he understood why the Englishman had insisted that Alex was the right person for the job. That well-manicured man had seen what he had refused to see, that Alex was a patriot first and foremost... that he would divert all of that energy, all of that aggression into saving humanity. It was obvious now who had protected Alex through those years of exile.

How many times had he come close to capturing his former lover only to find Alex had been forewarned... and had escaped?

Spender remembered the one time Alex had come to him. He sneered... but then, it wasn't really Alex, it was the Oilien that had taken over his body that had brought Alex to his door. He shuddered, being so close to that delicious body and yet Alex might as well have been on another planet. He couldn't touch him. All he could do was take the Oilien to his ship as requested and then leave Alex to die. The sound of Alex's screams as he walked away leaving the boy in his dark crypt haunted him for months. He knew that, by the time it was safe to return, Alex would be long dead. And so he stayed away, trying to regain the lost lover through many a look-alike but they never fired his soul and he tired of them quickly; their bodies ending up as hosts to the Colonists.

His fingers caressed the soft lips; lips that had blazed a path across his own skin; lips that had wrapped around his engorged flesh bringing him to mindless ecstasy. Spender smiled. He would know that ecstasy again whether Alex was willing or not.

A slight click as the door opened drew his attention to the Bounty Hunter. Spender stood up and moved aside as the alien morph approached the bed. The big hands reached down and a soft glow haloed the body momentarily. Keeping his newly found desire firmly under control, the alien morph gave Spender one last dispassionate glance and then left the room.

Spender listened as Alex groaned softly; the dark lashes flickering as he slowly surfaced from the unnatural sleep. With a sudden irrational concern for the boy's dignity, he flicked a light covering over the lower half of the naked form.

 

**********

The long, grueling flight to Tunisia went by so slowly that Mulder felt he was going insane. He had tried to sleep... desperate to recuperate his strength after that blow to the head and the traumatic escape from the Lone Gunmen's headquarters. Beside him, Dana Scully lay back as if she had not a care in the world. Her eyes were hidden behind the complimentary sleep mask, her breathing slow and easy. He spent a moment staring at her tiny hands, momentarily awed that such a small frame could house such inner strength... and she was his tower of strength. She had held him together when Alex was taken from BioTechnics by the Rebel aliens and she was still by his side now as they raced across half the world hoping those four numbers were leading them to where Cancerman had taken Alex.

He closed his eyes and dwelt on their recent escape. The vent behind the Barbarella poster had led to a janitor's closet further along the hallway. Unlike most closets this one had an inbuilt laundry chute from the days when the apartment block had been a high-class hotel. Mulder had smiled, realizing why he had always liked the Gunmen's home. He had spent so many of the last few years on the road as part of his job that it had reminded him of all the hotel rooms he had stayed in. In counterpoint, his own apartment had only felt like a real home over the past few weeks... because Alex was there.

The laundry chute had been a tight fit for his bulky frame and he was grateful he had kept himself in trim over the years. The exhilarating slide had led down to the basement room adjoining an underground parking lot. Within minutes they were on the road heading in three different directions with instructions on where and when to meet. Several hours later, grouped around one of the largest pizzas Scully had ever seen, they had finished poring over all the data and were making their plans. Later that same evening, he and Scully had caught the Tunisian flight with only minutes to spare.

The in-flight movie claimed his attention for a while; some lightweight comedy but his interest faded quickly. To pass the time his mind made a mental checklist of events garnered from the many other international flights he had taken. Only one more hour and the flight attendants would serve another bland meal... then there would be the obligatory attempt to sell duty free goods and then they would be completing landing cards, sorting out passports.

He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping this time he might be successful and fall into a restorative sleep but Alex waited for him behind his eyelids, his pleasure-sated face demanding one more caress... one more kiss. With nothing better to occupy his mind and a determination not to dwell on what might be happening to his lover at this very moment, Mulder kept his eyes closed and allowed the memories to flow through him......

***********

Pale morning light had illuminated the motel room. The heat of another body alongside his own had drawn him from a dreamless sleep and for a while the perfection of the face tucked against his shoulder held its own dreamlike quality. His fantasies surrounding this particular man had become a nightly occurrence from very early on, gradually invading his daytime dreams but on that morning the fantasy had returned more vivid, more alluring than ever before. His sleep-softened mind had focused on the glints of red shining in the short, mahogany hair before his eyes had moved to travel over that oh so familiar face. Fingers had replaced his dreamy gaze, trailing along the stubbled jaw... and they had kissed....

**********

Mulder smiled as the memory of their first kiss stole through his nerve endings, igniting a slow-burning fire, his lips tingling in remembrance of the soft ones he had captured and held. His smile faded and he pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the tears prickling at the back of his eyes. They had been given so little time together, just a few short weeks. Time he had spent chasing the elusive truth, digging through shredded reports, when he should have been at home loving Alex, creating a huge store of memories to live on should the worst happen... should he never find Alex.

Common sense told him that he could not have done anything to prevent what happened... except steal Alex away to some remote place where they could hide away together forever. Cancerman had wanted Alex... had taken Alex using the insidious Bounty Hunter as his tool. That thought prompted another that he did not want to dwell on. Strange how, with hindsight, it was so obvious that it was not his Alex who came to him that night. But his mind had explained away all the inconsistencies; the ferocity of that first kiss as the fear of losing each other, the uncharacteristic murmuring of endearments as a need to reassure that they were both together again. Only the return of that hated smirk had broken the spell, revealing the full deception too late to prevent this disaster.

Another thought tore at him. How was he going to explain all this to Alex? How could he look him in the eye and say... 'I thought it was you?' He should have known from the very first touch that it was not his lover. He should have seen the differences between...

"It's not your fault, Mulder. He's a master of disguise."

He twisted his neck round so fast he heard it crack. Next to him, Dana Scully was removing the sleep mask and turning serious cerulean blue eyes in his direction. She flicked a strand of red hair back from her face with those incredibly delicate fingers.

"How did you know...?"

"What you were thinking? Easy one, Mulder. You're obsessed with taking the blame for everything that goes wrong... or not quite right. Think this through logically. You've just woken up. The room's still pretty dark. A familiar shape and voice above you... Alex's shape. Alex's voice. Before you have time to question why he's put himself at risk to come to you, you've got this warm, familiar body in your arms. By the time the lethargy of sleep and sex has started to wane... it's too late. You've said too much."

"That's uncanny, Scully. You weren't hiding in the closet were you?"

Scully smiled, a bittersweet smile considering the circumstances. There was a time when she thought their partnership would deepen into something far more personal but she had given up on that fantasy, content, now, to be the best of friends. Although the thought of being in that closet had come to her several times over the past few weeks. There was something strangely alluring about these two men... together. She wasn't quite sure what it was. Perhaps it was the love that shone from two different sets of eyes whenever they stared at each other; perhaps it was the way their bodies performed that subliminal mating dance whenever they were in close proximity. Whatever the case, it was potent and alluring. Her mind snapped back to the joking response. Mulder often used smart replies to cover up his emotions.

"It doesn't take much intelligence to figure it out. Surveying the scene of a... crime... is what we do for a living."

Mulder thought back to the motel room. Yes. It was pretty obvious and he was suddenly ashamed that he had not expected her to notice. Did he really think so little of her?

"If that expression of remorse is aimed at me then forget it. You were the psychologist, Mulder. Denial can be a strong emotion." She touched his arm gently, bringing his tear glistened eyes to hers. "Alex will understand."

"Have I told you recently how much I value you?"

"Don't go all mushy on me, Mulder. I hate mush."

The crackling of the flight intercom drew their attention as the Captain announced some turbulence up ahead. Scully faced forward and began to fasten her seat belt, her thoughts tumbling from her pretty lips.

"I hope the Gunmen have made all the necessary arrangements. We've got a lot of distance to cover. Those coordinates are way down south, into the Sahara."

"Hope you packed your sandals, Scully."

"There's one more thing I've got to say to you, Mulder. If you start doing Lawrence of Arabia impressions... I am going to shoot you."

***********

 **Consortium Research Station  
Sahara Desert, Tunisia**

The alien morph looked at his human disguise in a full-length mirror. He had chosen this particular form decades ago having been drawn to its broad shoulders, massive chest and strong, square jaw... so different from his own natural form. It was an imposing figure that sent humans scurrying out of his path. He raised the corners of the mouth, watching with interest how the action brought life to the normally expressionless features. The smile turned into a sneer of contempt. More than five decades had passed and yet this was the first time he had truly interacted with humans… with two humans to be exact.

His thoughts returned to one other of his own species that had lost objectivity and consorted with the livestock. Baseball. His colleague had become impassioned by a stupid human game... hitting a ball with a stick. He had not understood why execution was more preferable than returning to the people... to the Agenda. He could not fathom the depth of passion that had consumed his shipmate... until now.

"But they are livestock. Their only use to provide suitable hosts for gestating the remainder of my shipmates..." ...bringing them out of their centuries long sleep.

Centuries. That was how long it had taken to cross the vast expanses of space and return to reclaim the world that had given birth to their race. Finding it inhabited by a new dominant species was a... shock. One that was quickly hushed up so nothing bled back to the Council. If it should then there would be an outcry and their plans to re-colonize the world would lie in tatters.

The Bounty Hunter thought about the Rebels. He wondered if any of the human's realized that many of these were not, as they thought, another alien race but members of the Colonists who had revolted against what they were about to do. They wanted the humans to be left alone; wanted to study them, nurture them, watch them grow as a species until they were ready to join the Great Council. Over the years he had kept his distance even though he had been forced to walk among the denizens of this planet. He paused on that thought. The humans were not denizens of the planet; they were not foreigners enjoying the benefits of this world. They were the Earth's children, just as his people were. He quashed the insurrection within his mind before it could take a hold. He was a soldier not a worker or a scientist. He could not afford to have doubts about his place in the scheme of things... could he?

"So very beautiful..."

The young human was so beautiful. Strange how he had never noticed beauty in these creatures until now and yet, as his mind catalogued the physical attributes of the species he began to recognize all the details that made this particular human more captivating than most. It was not just the intoxicating scent, although the morph had to admit that was a major part of his attraction, it was the softness of his ivory skin, the brilliance of his forest-green eyes... the inviting shape of those pink, bowed lips.

"Beauty is transient."

The ravages of time would strip that perfect form of those features but did he not read somewhere that beauty comes from within? He had to admit that it was more than just the pretty face that called to him. The other, the one who sucked his life away on that toxic, aromatic drug called nicotine. By definition, he had been handsome when first they met but the coldness inside, the willingness to betray his own people... even his own flesh and blood had made him a creature worthy only of his contempt. His one redeeming moment had been when he had requested help to save the life of a dying female; the mother of Fox Mulder. In contrast, both Alexei Krycek and Fox Mulder had an inner brilliance that radiated outwards from the depths of their being.

All three of these humans were fighting for what they believed in -- the right to exist -- but, whereas it was Spender's personal existence that fuelled his determination, for Krycek and Mulder the continued existence of humanity was their goal. Self-serving and self-sacrificing. That was the true difference... and the source of beauty within.

An inner calling put a halt to his introspection. He allowed the human image to fall from his frame leaving behind the Gray alien, his true form, and he swiftly moved out of his chambers towards the main control of the ship. For once, as he traveled the darkened corridors, his eyes fell with pity upon the human hosts, many of whom were still barely alive. He knew their gutted bodies would be removed from the gestation chambers and placed into the recycling unit once his brethren had clawed their way out of the empty shell. Nothing went to waste.

But what of their small lives? This concept of a spirit and soul? Were not these wasted?

He viciously pushed these thoughts aside as he reached the main control room where several of the Gray scientists and leader-soldiers were arguing details of the Plan.

***********

Alex groaned softly. Despite the heavy damask, the light from the overhead sun stabbed into his eyes as soon as he tried to open them. He scrunched them closed then opened them a mere sliver. Someone was sitting beside him on the... his fingers pushed against the soft surface and then fluttered across crisp sheets. A bed. He'd already figured out that he was secured, wrist and ankle, to each end and was relieved that he had been given a little play, enough that he was not tied spreadeagled, affording him some small amount of dignity. The light covering that lay from waist to knees gave him a little more.

Gradually, the figure sitting beside him gained greater substance and a sneer crossed the still dazed features on recognition. If his brain had been a little less muzzy then he would have recognized this man from the cloying scent of cigarette smoke that clung to his clothing and, worst still, to his breath. He wondered if the man had ever realized that was why he had rarely kissed him during those early years.

"I should..." Alex cleared his throat and tried again. "I should have known it would be you."

Yellow-stained fingertips reached out to touch his face and Alex jerked his head away, trying to avoid contact. A vise-like grip on his face turned him back.

"There was a time when you--"

"Yeah... and there was a time I believed in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy."

The pale blue eyes hardened. A knock on the door brought a welcome reprieve. Spender's face distorted in anger, a look Alex had seen a hundred times. Whoever had intruded had better have a good excuse.

"Who is it?"

"Davis, Strughold has requested your presence. We've had a report back on the security breach."

Spender glanced back down at his restrained captive. As always, business had to come before pleasure but he was determined to have some pleasure. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against the luscious pink, bowed lips. Alex struggled and, once released he spat into Spender's face. Spender smiled, using a handkerchief to wipe the spittle from his cheek. He stood, taking his time to light another cigarette, his eyes mapping the long legs and exposed chest before reaching the eyes; aflame with anger.

"Perhaps it's time you grew up a little more, Alex. I seem to recall giving you an ultimatum... return to me or watch your..." His face creased up in distaste "... lover... die."

The green eyes narrowed to slits as Alex recalled the one-sided conversation he had held with this man only a few short months ago. If the rebel aliens had not decided to make an entrance into BioTechnics when they did then Alex would have been forced to make his decision at that time. Instead, the decision had merely been delayed. He had no doubt that Spender could arrange for a fatal accident to befall Fox Mulder if he refused Spender's demands but he was also unconvinced that this accident would not occur anyway. The man could not be trusted even if there was a shadow of possibility that Mulder was, in fact, Spender's biological son. Cancerman had already proved he would sell his own family down the river to save his own skin. Cassandra Spender, and the decades of tests she had suffered, was ample proof of that.

"We'll carry on with this 'discussion' later."

Alex watched as the man left the room without a backward glance. He tugged at the ropes to no avail and cried out angrily in frustration.

***********

 **Tunis Airport  
Tunisia**

They moved swiftly through the airport entry system with only the smallest delay as the Tunisian Customs authority searched their bags. Eventually they made their way to the car rental desk.

"Is there a car rented in the name of Hale?"

"Yes. We have an international request for a 'George Hale'."

Mulder reached into his wallet and pulled out the fake driver's ID and passport, silently thanking the Gunmen for getting the transport sorted out for them. Within a few more minutes he had completed all the paperwork and was striding out to the collection zone with Dana Scully by his side. As they left the cool confines of the airport concourse Mulder felt the heat begin to rise. He mumbled softly when the heat smacked into them as the door opened.

"I hope this car has air conditioning."

By the time they reached the car they were covered in sweat.

"I don't sweat, Mulder. I perspire."

"If we don't get out of this heat, I'll expire."

********************

 **FBI Headquarters  
Washington DC**

Skinner sighed as he read the report from Agents Harris and Davidson. His men had spent the entire weekend in Barter's Grove trying to follow-up on the disappearance of Michael Anacek and had little to show for their effort judging by the fact that this report was so thin. He paused at the description of a man and his female companion who had also been looking for the missing man, his mouth tightening into a thin line of disapproval.

A tall, good-looking man and his petite red-haired partner... ring any bells, Walter?

Still fuming, Skinner reached forward and buzzed his secretary.

"Kimberley. Get me Agents Mulder and Scully... now."

While he waited for the errant agents to be hauled in front of him, Skinner read the rest of the report. With such a sketchy description it should not have been possible to identify any of the people mentioned and, if he had not been handed the case by Fox Mulder then he might of overlooked the obvious suspect; the Smoker. Eventually, his patience ran out and he buzzed his secretary once again.

"I'm sorry, sir. It appears Agents Mulder and Scully are unavailable. I get the impression they've gone missing."

"Get me Kersh, please."

After a short conversation, Walter Skinner replaced the phone in its cradle and rubbed both hands over his head, sensing the beginning of one of those special headaches that only Mulder and Scully could produce. He pushed away from the desk, stood and went to retrieve his coat. On the way through his secretary's office, Skinner spoke quickly.

"Cancel all my afternoon calls and meetings. I'll reschedule them later... and ask Agents Harris and Davidson to meet me outside Agent Mulder's apartment. The address is on file."

"Yes, sir. Sir? Will you be returning later?"

"No. Tomorrow."

***********

 **Lone Gunmen Headquarters  
Washington DC**

John Byers turned his head back. Through one swollen eye he could just make out the bound forms of his fellow gunmen. They had been foolish to return so soon; should have been a little more paranoid. The men who had captured them had been lying in wait, watching for any suspicious movement around the apartment. He watched one of the men wipe away the droplets of sweat beading on the man's forehead. This man had worked all of them over pretty good. Byers felt the trickle of blood running through the hairs of his beard from the split in his lip. So far none of them had given too much away, concentrating on telling a highly edited version of the truth... the version that left out the fact that there had been two more members of their little hacking party.

"Once more. Where did you get the address?"

The sound of metal hitting living flesh was only partially dampened by the low groan as Frohike's head snapped sideways from the blow. The assailant eased his fingers within the knuckle-dusters and reached out to grab Frohike by the hair in preparation for the next blow. Byers felt tears prickle at the back of his eyes; his friend was barely conscious and he wondered how many more blows any of them could take. A glance sideways showed that Langly was still out cold and Byers felt those tears spill over as he took in the mottled black and blue bruising on pale skin turned gray.

"Where did you get the address?"

The same question had been repeated over and over. At first none of them had made any form of answer but gradually the truth was trickling from their mouths.

Melvin Frohike coughed hard, splaying blood over his once clean white shirt. His mouth felt like it was on fire; the nerves in his teeth screaming at the abuse. His eyes slid over to capture the black and purple-rimmed blues of his fellow gunman. Byers could see the defeat written in Frohike's eyes and knew he had to act now or all the punishment they had withstood would have been for nothing.

"Don't hurt him anymore. It was me. I got the address."

The thugs let go of Frohike and turned towards the slightly built bearded man. The coldness in their eyes brought renewed fear and he swallowed noisily. It was hard to believe that less than forty-eight hours ago they had been sitting in front of their beloved computers hacking away to merry hell with hardly a care in the world.

Earlier, while the goons had been occupied with Langly, Byers had calculated the time differentials and decided Mulder and Scully would have reached the mothership's coordinates by now. All he had to do was buy them a little more time... enough time for Mulder to search the ship for Alex.

"It's a program. I created it. It--it manufactures possible IP addresses... and-and then tries to connect up. If," he cleared his throat, "if the address points to... to a server then it stores the details. We..." Byers' head indicated the other two Gunmen, "we check out those addresses manually to see if there's anything interesting..."

He trailed off as the man approached him, reaching out a hand to lightly slap his cheek in an almost friendly gesture.

"There. That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

It took a painful amount of control to keep the relief from showing in his eyes. The man believed him. He really believed him. Byers felt his face go slack with realization as the man withdrew a handgun and carefully began to screw a silencer to the end of the barrel. He swallowed and pulled a wan smile to his lips. It appeared he had believed him all too well. The smile deepened. It seemed they had bought Mulder time... with their lives.

***********

Back to index

  


Part 3 by Tarlan

  


 **Consortium Research Station  
Sahara Desert, Tunisia**

Alex Krycek looked, to all intents and purposes, like a recalcitrant child being admonished by a parent. He glowered at the man standing opposite, wrinkling his nose up in distaste as the smell of cigarette smoke drifted across the room. At least he had, finally, been allowed the dignity of T-shirt and shorts.

"I'm awaiting your answer, Alex... and don't bother with the 'I'm a one-man man' routine. When my hunter picked you up you had an ass full of semen."

Alex paled. Until that moment he had believed the rape was just a new variant on the nightmares that had plagued him since his possession by the Oilien. In those dreams the alien would seep into every orifice, slither into his mind... raping his thoughts along with his body. He thought this new nightmare had been triggered by the Bounty Hunter's presence, the terror of being powerless translating as the alien morph possessing him as assuredly as its Oilien brother. When he had awoken from this nightmare there had been no traces of damage; no burn of a used... or abused anus.

"Who was it, Alex? Some low-life you picked up on a street corner for a quick fuck?"

The words were spoken calmly, almost nonchalantly but appearances were deceptive. Inside, Spender was a boiling cauldron of jealousy, its blackness reaching out in dark waves to foul the air around them. This jealousy was the reason he knew Mulder would never be allowed to survive. Spender didn't like to share. He'd taken Alex's virginity and believed that meant he owned the younger man forever.

"Your Bounty Hunter."

Spender smiled, malignantly.

"You'll have to do better than that."

Their eyes held for a moment but Alex knew Spender would never believe the alien morph was capable of sexual contact with a human. After five decades watching the morph eye humans with contempt, avoiding even the slightest brush of body against body, the Smoker had determined that the Grays were either asexual or viewed humans with repugnance. He was not about to believe that the morph could want to possess a human sexually, and certainly not on the word of someone like Alexei Krycek: a double-crossing, two-timing, assassin-rat-bastard. Spender wanted to believe that Alex had picked up some two-bit rent boy. He wanted to believe that the relationship forged with Fox Mulder meant little to either man, despite all evidence to the contrary because, if that was the case then his chances of keeping Alex in his bed were so much greater.

"Well. No matter. From now on you will learn to be exclusive... to me."

"Dream on."

The snarled reply brought another small smile. Spender had never realized before how enjoyable this could be. The thought of taking such an unwilling partner, of slaking his lust in the tight heat of that rebellious body, gave him a deeply erotic thrill. He could feel his own flesh harden in anticipation.

"But first I have a small... administration task to perform."

Spender ground out the cigarette stub in a conveniently placed ashtray and then reached over to pick up a tranquilizer gun that had been placed on the small table by the door. He checked to ensure it was loaded before priming the trigger.

"The dart in this gun contains the retrovirus; the accelerated version. Once released into the blood stream the virus will mutate. The gestation period is twelve hours. By the end of the seventh hour the host cannot be saved.... even with the vaccine." Spender glanced around the room. "It appears we have a traitor in our midst. Someone who has been providing information to the wrong people."

Spender aimed the gun at one of the men standing near the window. The man's eyes widened in terror, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he tried to form words. The eyes closed as Spender's finger tightened on the trigger but opened moments later when no stinging sensation accompanied the 'phut' to find all eyes focused elsewhere.

John Davis looked down at the dart protruding from his shoulder in horror. Within moments he felt a wave of nausea overcome him and he fell to his knees, his vision starting to blur as the virus invaded his blood stream.

"I should have suspected earlier that Mr. Leighton was more than just a passing fancy. Perhaps now you may provide the same service to our Colonist allies as he. Take him to the ship."

John Davis barely put up a struggle as strong arms grabbed him and dragged him from the room. He knew he had taken a big gamble when he sent the IP address to Fox Mulder, for very few of Spender's people were privy to that information. But he could not bear the thought of Spender having this original Krycek when he had loved and lost the substitute, Martin Leighton.

With ever dimming thoughts, he remembered the cold shock when Spender casually discarded Martin, infecting his beautiful young body with the retrovirus and sending him to the Antarctic mothership. Once the shock wore off, the hatred began. Years of planning had finally come to fruition, although he had seen several more Krycek substitutes suffer his own lover's fate before the time was right. He had been determined that CGB Spender would never have the opportunity to indulge in his true obsession... Alexei Krycek. Killing Krycek would have been one option but a far sweeter revenge had presented itself when he discovered the love between Krycek and Fox Mulder. How much greater the revenge to watch Spender seething in frustration and jealousy as the man he desired so obsessively slept in another's arms. Unfortunately, he had not bargained on Spender using the Bounty Hunter to locate and capture the rebellious Russian thereby requiring desperate measures on his part if he was to fulfill his vendetta.

As the virus took a firmer grip, Davis's last thought was a plea, to any deity, that Mulder had worked out the message and was on his way to snatch Krycek from Spender's grasp.

***********

Alex stared in horror as the man was dragged away between two burly guards but his eyes narrowed as he realized the odds were now in his favor. Only two of Spender's goons remained and both were now preoccupied. A plan quickly formed to give him an even greater edge. Concentrating hard, he allowed his thoughts to direct the cells in his body, feeling the skin on his face ripple as a new configuration took shape. The guards took a step back in shock, their guns almost forgotten. In one swift movement he leapt sideways, catching one guard under the chin with his fist... the impact only bruising the man's windpipe. As the other swung his gun to bear, Alex turned and thrust out his arms, the heel of one hand forcing the nasal bone to splinter and stab upwards into the man's brain; killing him instantly. He spun back around to tackle the other man, wanting to disable him more permanently but found the dart gun trained upon him.

"No!!"

The sting of the dart brought an ominous silence. With a sideways glance Alex caught the horror-filled expression on Spender's face; the outstretched arm as the Consortium leader tried but failed to knock the tranquilizer gun aside. The gun was clattering to the floor from numbed fingers even as Alex fell to his knees. As his vision began to blur he saw Spender turn to the other man in anger. The sound of a bullet leaving the barrel and smashing into solid flesh echoed through Alex's last thoughts as blood splattered from the shattered chest of his assailant.

***********

 **Overlooking The Consortium Research Station  
Sahara Desert, Tunisia**

Mulder wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. The heat radiating up from the pale yellow sand was almost unbearable. Beyond the edge of the sand dune where they hid, the heat seemed to rise in shimmering columns making the oasis of greenery seem like a mirage.

Scully grabbed the binoculars and took another look, her lips pressed into a grim line of remembrance. It was the same set up as the one in the States; a wide expanse of green, probably ripening corn surrounding the white domes which, more than likely, housed more of the mutant bees. She gave a small gasp as a man was dragged from one of the domes between two burly guards. For a moment it had looked like Alex but a closer scrutiny revealed it to be a stranger of similar age and build. The baseball hat was displaced, suddenly, as she watched, falling to the ground and revealing sun-bleached, blonde hair, thereby confirming her observation.

Mulder chose that moment to snatch back the binoculars and Scully cursed her decision to conserve finances in buying a single pair. Looking back it was a ludicrous decision. They had spent a small fortune on one-way tickets to Tunisia; bought clothes at the airport; hired a car; chartered a small plane and then hired the use of horses and a Tuareg guide for the last leg of the journey to this distant and remote site. The guide had decided to wait below keeping the horses in the shade while Mulder and Scully climbed the forty-foot high dune. When Mulder ducked his head suddenly Scully reacted as quickly.

"What is it?"

"Thought I saw..."

He shook his head once before slipping down from the rim of the dune. Turning onto his back he placed his arm across tired eyes to block out the glare from the overhead sun. He felt the shifting of the soft sand; a trickle flowing passed his face before the feel of another human body came to a halt beside him.

"It's okay, Mulder. If he's here then we'll find him and we'll get him out... but not yet. The sun will set in about five hours. We ought to wait until dark." Scully mopped her forehead with a perspiration-soaked handkerchief, grimacing at the lack of relief it brought. "But now we need to get into some shade."

Without further ado she half-walked, half-slid down the remainder of the soft, shifting sand to the base of the dune where the guide waited patiently for their return. After a moment's hesitation Mulder followed completely unaware of the events surrounding Alex that were being played out in the dome at that very moment.

***********

The sable hair was as silky as he remembered it to be. The soft strands flowing through his fingers as he lovingly stroked his former lover. The pads of his nicotine-stained fingers felt the roughness of new stubble on the face. There was nothing he could do to save Alex. There was no Russian vaccine here at the Research Station... and no likelihood of any arriving within the next seven hours. Spender gazed at the unconscious man, whose head lay supported in his lap, looking for all the world like the proverbial Sleeping Beauty. In a moment of insanity he wondered whether he could awaken him with a kiss. He bent his head and touched the inviting pink lips with his own but those intelligent, green eyes remained resolutely closed.

A soft click claimed his attention and he glanced up on hearing the door open to find Conrad Strughold standing on the threshold. With one last affectionate caress, Spender carefully placed the head on the ground and pushed himself to his feet. For the first time his gaze took in the macabre sight around him; blood splattered everything; walls, floor... himself... damning evidence of a high velocity projectile hitting human flesh at almost point blank range.

"I need to get cleaned up."

"I'll have the body removed to the ship while..."

"No. I'll make the necessary arrangements when I'm ready."

"The gestation period is only..."

"I am fully aware of the gestation period, Dr. Strughold. I will make the arrangements... and I will accompany the body to the ship."

Strughold seethed but bit back any retort. Despite his own delusions of grandeur, he knew Spender was higher in the echelons of the Consortium, answerable only to the First Elder now the Englishman was dead. He watched as the Smoker walked away without a backward glance, totally assured that his order would be acted upon.

***********

With five hours to go until sunset, every minute seemed to drag. The Tuareg had led them some distance away from the Research Station to another far smaller oasis. They spent part of the time listening to the Tuareg curse the scientists who had taken such a vital link in the chain of water holes. It was by far the largest in the area and one where his family group would bivouac before making the difficult journey further south as they followed the ancient trade routes. He complained that no one had offered any compensation for his loss and mentioned that Mulder and Scully were lucky to find anyone willing to bring them here. Whole family groups had disappeared without a trace since the infidels had arrived with their modern domes, strange plants and buzzing insects.

With still two more hours to go until sunset the Tuareg finally lapsed into silence, conserving his energy for the work ahead. Scully reached out and grasped the water bottle, took a deep swallow and passed the bottle to Mulder. She watched him carefully as he took a few quick gulps of pure water before replacing the cap. The makeshift tent kept the worst of the direct heat at bay and as Mulder turned Raybans-covered eyes to her, she wished they did not need protective eyewear as she had learnt to read so much of this man through his expressive eyes.

Chameleon eyes.

Scully smiled. That's what Melissa used to call hazel-eyed people. Her sister had always been so flowery with words... so poetic. Dana remembered the conversation as if it were only yesterday. Melissa had been describing the auras surrounding people; how they glowed with different colors equating to the different emotions but mentioned that long before she learned how to detect these auras she would try to read the emotions through the eyes. 'Windows to the soul', she called them. Melissa had laughed saying how much easier it was to read 'chameleon' eyes; how they changed from blue to green to gold to brown with every passing thought. 'What about blue eyes?' she had asked. Melissa had only smiled and mentioned how, in some cultures, blue eyes denoted a person without a soul... but as these were mainly brown-eyed people it was probably just a form of racism... a dislike of anything different from the norm.

Scully felt a deep ache in her heart as she thought of her sister. For all their differences they had loved each other. Differences. Yes, there were vast differences between them. Melissa was the poet; the mystic, dabbling in all kinds of holistic arts from crystal-gazing to homeopathy with a passion as great as the one Dana extended towards her own version of the sciences. Yet despite those differences they had been so similar; so strong in their own beliefs. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes as she realized she still had a long way to go before she could truly forgive Alex for the part he played in her sister's death. Oh yes. She had accepted his explanation; knew he was not the one who had pulled the trigger but he had been there. Surely he could have done something, anything, to stop Cardinal. After all, their orders had not been to kill, only to recover the tape. She sighed, realizing that she was being unfair. How many times had she been in a similar position, powerless to stop the runaway train of events? How many more times would she blindly follow Fox Mulder into the mouth of hell, relying on him to ensure she escaped unscathed both physically and mentally? Even now, as she sat in this inhospitable place, waiting for the sun to start its descent, she knew she was walking the razor's edge, knowing the smallest step to either side would plunge her into the abyss.

"Scully?"

"Hmmm?"

"I shouldn't have dragged you into this."

She smiled enigmatically: her 'Mona Lisa' smile as he had once called it. No. He shouldn't have dragged her halfway around the world to this oven but if he had insisted on leaving her behind then she would have found some way to follow anyway. She had made her choice a long time ago; he walked the razor's edge too and she had put her life in his hands when she had decided to follow on behind him. She was about to remind him of this when he spoke first.

"I know... you'd have come anyway. Forget I said anything and get some rest."

She wrapped her tiny fingers around his and squeezed once, tightly, before letting go and sinking back into her own thoughts.

***********

Mulder gradually lost himself in his own memories as they waited for the sun to set.

The memory of laughing, green eyes danced behind his closed lids and Mulder wondered anew how this man had become so important to him in such a short space of time. They had started off as colleagues; his photographic memory recalling the first time they met when the rookie, fresh from Quantico, had thrust forward his hand in introduction only to be ignored.

Mulder cursed aloud bringing a soft questioning murmur from Scully who was dozing beside him.

Why had he never noticed how beautiful Alex was on that very first day they met? Had he been too busy looking at the gelled-back hair and cheap suit? Had he been too caught up in his own pettiness and prejudices to take a proper look at the wet-behind-the-ears agent, let alone extend even a modicum of civility to the younger man?

How had he missed those eyes; so alive, so...green… and that megawatt smile?

Mulder burned that first image into his brain so he could study every line, every contour over and over again. After a while he allowed the memories to flow forward. He saw once more the fear-widened eyes as Alex focused on Augustus Cole, noted the trembling of the hand holding the gun before the finger began to tighten on the trigger. Belief that Cole was about to shoot his partner was written across the young, expressive face. Mulder flinched, suddenly, realizing that Alex had revealed more than just fear that day.

"How long have you loved me, Alex?"

"Mulder?"

Dana Scully sat upright as the faintest whisper drifted into her hearing. She looked across at her long-time partner with a frown before checking her watch. There was still about half an hour until they could decamp and return to the Research Station.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you remember what I said to you that night you came by the apartment and found me sitting alone in the dark?"

Dana pursed her lips for a moment as she tried to remember one particular incident among many.

"Uhmm... something about inextricable relationships and curve-balls."

"I was just wondering what would have happened if I had never found those cigarette butts in his car. Where would we be right now? I-I think he was in love with me from the beginning. Would he have confessed... defected to my side? Would he still be that seemingly innocent, idealistic man I first met or would the years of subterfuge have taken their toll leaving him bitter and twisted?"

"Melissa believed that we each have a path to follow and no matter what route you take when the path forks... eventually you reach the same place."

"So much for freedom of choice. If your fate's already decided before you even take the first step on the road then what is the point?"

"Something to do with the person you are when you reach the end of the journey... Demon or Saint."

There was silence for several minutes while Mulder mulled over this last point. Demon or Saint. Until recently he would have pegged Alex for the former and yet there was no way anyone would ever consider Alex a saint. A smile played about the sensuous lips at that thought. No... Alex fell somewhere in between; he was beauty and beast, exuding a heady mixture of danger and vulnerability. He was sex personified with the face of sweet innocence, like an angel that had fallen from grace. The Alex that Mulder had fallen in love with was a mass of contradictions formed by the various paths his life had taken, either voluntarily or by coercion.

What is it he had said to Scully that day? Destiny, fate, how to throw a curve ball... the inextricable relationships in our lives that are neither accidental, nor somehow in our control, either.

At the time he believed he had been talking about himself but now, on reflection, he wondered whether those thoughts had more to do with the man that seemed to turn his life upside down with every encounter.

Strange how perceptions could be altered by a single word or an emotion... or by a kiss.

***********

 **Consortium Research Station  
Sahara Desert, Tunisia**

Long dark corridors radiated out from the center of the ship. Normally Spender would barely glance at the bodies embedded into the walls of the corridor through which he traveled. He had passed along similar corridors many times and he was used to seeing the white squirming mass of the alien fetuses within the hollowed out abdomens of their long dead human hosts. The batch of aliens in this corridor would hatch within a few more hours and be led away to the central chamber for the final stages of their metamorphosis from Oilien to Gray. He paused suddenly, his eyes meeting the unseeing ones of the dead woman within one of the capsules. A flutter of movement drew his attention to the alien fetus and he found himself shrinking back in disgust. It was a sight he thought he had become accustomed to... until now. For the first time it struck him that these were humans being used and thrown aside so callously. He looked ahead and the blood in his veins seemed to pool momentarily as he watched Alex's unconscious body being lifted and carefully placed into one of the few vacant holes. After securing him upright they attached a tube to the one that had already been inserted down his throat. This would provide additional nutrients to the alien fetus; not that it was at all necessary, for the alien could synthesize enough nutrients from absorbing the human's internal organs. However, it had become standard practice as the tube also ensured the human host received enough oxygen to keep the body alive and, hence, fresher for much longer.

The door was sealed shut as Spender approached. He watched as an alien type of amniotic fluid was pumped into the capsule, the level gradually rising until Alex was completely submerged.

Five hours had passed since Alex had been infected with the retrovirus. Already Spender could see signs of the growing fetus; a ripple of movement beneath the soft skin. Within another two hours the alien parasite would start breaking down the human tissue to give it the nutrients it needed to grow. Spender had spent these last five hours trying to find some way of halting the process. He should have ensured there were cryogenic facilities here at the very least. That might have bought Alex a little more time, given him the chance to bring in the vaccine. As it was, the nearest supply of the alien vaccine was too far away even with the contacts he had within the various air forces of the countries involved. With only a few hours remaining Spender had to submit to Strughold's demand that Alex be placed inside the mothership in preparation for the inevitable.

Spender gave a deep sigh of loss and regret as he stared at the face that had haunted him for so many years. In repose the tension of the last few days had lifted away leaving behind the beautiful young man he remembered from that first encounter. An ache started somewhere deep in his chest and he reached out to touch the clear surface that separated him from his obsession.

As the pain of loss receded, anger took its place. This was Mulder's fault. It was Mulder who had turned his precious Alex, captivating him body and soul. If not for Mulder then Alex might still be alive and warm in his bed instead of buried alive in this nightmare place.

An idea broke into his dark thoughts: the Bounty Hunter. The alien morph had the ability to treat the injured. Would he save Alex? Spender decided it was worth a shot. All he had to do was find something he could use to buy Alex's life back. With this plan in mind he gave Alex one final gaze and then turned, renewed determination evident in every step he took.

However, the Communications Manager intercepted him before he could reach the Administration complex.

"Sir. We have ascertained that the 'hackers' used an automated program to locate the server. Our people are awaiting your decision. Shall we eliminate them?"

With great difficulty Spender forced his thoughts away from Alex and to the hackers. He paused for a moment remembering The Thinker. The man had been a computer genius and had managed not only to locate one of the Consortium's main databases but also to hack his way through the high-level security net in order to extract many gigabytes of data. Killing The Thinker had seemed the right decision at the time but, in hindsight, the Consortium could have made excellent use of such a genius. A security system designed and tested by one of the best hackers in the world might have prevented this latest breach in their security. Decision made he turned to his subordinate.

"Have them taken to our installation in Baltimore. We might be able to make good use of their skills."

As he watched the man move off to carry out his orders Spender's thoughts returned to the Thinker and his part in driving the final wedge between him and Alex. Only the Englishman had been against the First Elder's decision, leaving him no choice but to follow orders and have both Alex and the MJ-12 tape destroyed. Strange how he had managed to take that phone call with barely a flicker of emotion and yet, hearing Alex's voice after presuming him dead had been one of the happiest moments of his life. Cardinal had admitted to the failed attempt a little while later but he had felt too elated knowing Alex had survived to do more than verbally berate the man. A shame, really, as it had merely postponed the inevitable. Cardinal had been a loose cannon: all attitude and no brain. Only later had Spender discovered it was Cardinal's trigger-happy disposition that had sealed Melissa Scully's fate and led to an Assistant Director of the FBI being gut-shot in front of a witness. When the First Elder had issued his orders to eliminate the maverick, Alexei Krycek, he had made a serious error of mistaken identity... or had he?

With the bitterness of loss lying heavy within him, Spender began to turn his incisive mind towards those who had spent the past few years treating him with contempt. Had the decision to eliminate Alex been politically driven? Had the First Elder deliberately ordered Alex's execution so he could replace Spender's protégé with his own man?

Once this thought revealed itself, Spender could not shake it off. He dropped his cigarette and ground it out, angrily, with the heel of his shoe as he started to make new plans.

***********

 **2630 Hegal Place  
Apartment 42  
Alexandria**

Skinner paused in front of the blank PC monitor, reached over and switched it on. After several attempts he gave up trying to figure out the password. He tried all the obvious ones including 'Samantha' and 'Ratboy' but to no avail. It was then that he noticed the blinking red light on the answering machine. Skinner pressed the correct sequence of buttons for a playback on all the messages, half-listening as he continued searching through the papers strewn across the untidy desk. He frowned as a man's voice started talking about birds in flight... one eyebrow rising at the thought of Mulder being interested in ornithology and then, as his finger hovered over the forward button, something caught his attention. He replayed the message listening carefully not to the words but to the voice behind them.

Storming out of the apartment, Skinner barreled into his two agents.

"Harris, Davidson. Follow me."

The agents gave each other a quick 'what the hell' look and scurried back to their car, tagging on behind the green Volvo that AD Skinner was driving. They followed Skinner down under a tall apartment block that used to be a hotel back in its heyday, parking side-by-side.

Skinner started walking towards the elevator but paused, suddenly, as the doors opened.

"FBI, put your hands where I can see them!"

Instead of doing so, three men charged out of the elevator with all guns blazing. Bullets ricocheted off the tarmac, punched through thin car metal and smashed through wind screens as Skinner, Harris and Davidson returned fire. A screech of tires brought them spinning around in time to see a black sedan accelerate, heading towards the elevators. The car stopped and the three men bundled into the car. Skinner raced after it on foot, firing shots that sparked off the trunk. The gun arm dropped to his side as the car raced out of the exit but instead of running to his car, the AD jogged towards the elevator, yelling orders over his shoulder as he went.

"Call the paramedics."

He crouched down beside the elevator.

"You look a mess, Frohike. Paramedics are on their way... now, where are Mulder and Scully?"

Frohike looked up through blackened, swollen eyes and decided he would trust this man. He gave the AD a shortened version of what had happened: of Krycek's disappearance and Mulder's frantic search for his lover. Frohike fell silent as he watched Skinner straighten, a strange expression of resignation on the man's face.

Skinner made way for the paramedics and moved back towards his car. It seemed Mulder and Scully had taken their own path to Alex Krycek and he realized, where they had gone, there was nothing he could do to either help them or protect them.

***********

 **Same Time Consortium Research Station  
Sahara Desert, Tunisia**

Mulder gritted his teeth as he watched CGB Spender grinding a cigarette butt into the ground as if it was some enemy that he wanted to crush beneath his feet. Until recently he truly believed he hated this man but now realized that what he had felt previously was a pale imitation of the raw emotion that flooded through his brain as he thought of this man touching his lover.

Dana Scully reached out and gripped his forearm, trying to stem the rising tide of anger that emanated from her partner in dark waves of pure rage. His eyes, when they turned towards her, were almost black with emotion. She glanced, pointedly, upwards... towards the gradually darkening sky. The last rays of a dying day filtered across the sky turning the white domes of the research station blood red. Already the tiny points of starlight were forming in the east.

They would wait another half an hour and then go in.

***********

"No."

Spender had made one last offer... obviously his best offer but the alien morph was unrelenting. If the Consortium leader had told him when it had happened then he might have acted. In the very early stages it would have been possible to transfer the fetus to a new host. Now it was far too late. No matter what inducement, no matter how much he was attracted to the green-eyed hybrid, he could not willingly destroy a developing pureblood to save the half-human.

The Bounty Hunter watched the light die in this human's eyes and felt a momentary stab of pain too. When first asked to capture Alexei Krycek for this man he had felt so vastly superior, feeling contemptuous of the way Spender obsessed over the human. After five decades he had never expected to find himself caught up in that same insanity and yet...

The Bounty Hunter pulled his thoughts up short. Memory of that incredible tight heat surrounding him and the intoxicating scent of the other burst into his mind, inflaming his human form. If truth be known he would willingly kill the pureblood to save the hybrid... for himself... but that action would seal his own fate. It did not matter that the developing pureblood was of little use until it had been given the mental engrams of one of the hibernating Colonists. It was still one of his own people and killing him would make him no better than the Rebels who constantly hammered at their defenses, destroying their installations and shredding their plans for colonization.

Time was no longer on his people's side. Questions were starting to be raised in the Great Council. Unknowingly, the humans were gathering extraterrestrial allies. If his people did not act soon then they would lose everything.

Five decades. I have not questioned any action in five decades. I have not had one single moment of remorse, or admiration, or respect... or love for any human in five decades... until now.

The morph paused. Was the change truly as sudden as it seemed? He forced himself to look deeper and realized his attitude to the humans had been changing slowly over these decades. Baseball: that pathetic excuse for a game. Hitting a ball with a bat. That had been the catalyst. His desire to understand what could be so wonderful about a human game that one of his brethren would choose to die rather than give it up had made him start to question it all.

Obsession. Obsession with baseball. Obsession with Alexei Krycek.

And what of Fox William Mulder? He could argue all he wanted that he had orders to keep the son alive. He could argue that seducing Mulder had been the most expedient method of gaining the location of Alexei Krycek but the truth of the matter was that Fox Mulder had captivated him. He had made every effort to ensure his continued existence; had enjoyed caressing that body, bringing it to total abandonment with his touch. The climax that ripped through him had been mind numbing, almost enough to make him forget what he had gone there for. And it was that lethal combination of physical desire and the memory of the pleasure such desire could evoke within him that had overpowered him when he touched Alexei. Renewed thoughts of this human inflamed him further; a growing addiction that he could not deny but he knew he must resist at all cost.

The Bounty Hunter watched Spender turn away, shoulders hunched in defeat. Years of showing no emotion had ensured that no sign of his inner turmoil had been apparent but the morph knew he would spend many a sleepless night thinking about this decision to do nothing.

***********

As the last rays of the day bled away the desert was plunged into near darkness. Starlight and a crescent moon cast a little light, enough to guide their footsteps as they breached the top of the dune and slid slowly down towards the edge of the field. Despite their insistence that he stay with the horses, the Tuareg followed on behind as they ran into the safety of the tall corn. Their small column of three pushed through the thick stalks as they made a beeline towards the largest of the domes, its illuminated interior shining through the white material lending it an otherworldly appearance.

They traversed the short distance between the edge of the field and the entrance to the dome as fast as possible and sank into the deepening shadows. Nothing stirred. Mulder insisted the others wait outside while he checked out the interior. He didn't want a repeat of their last foray into one of the domes. He returned within a few minutes, shaking his head. This was the dome housing the bees. The layout was identical to the one in the States. Slowly and cautiously they stole towards the next dome. As they approached the door opened and a tall figure emerged. They waited, breath held as the sound of metal striking against metal was followed by a small flame, the resulting light illuminating the face that Mulder hated beyond all reason. Cancerman.

With a swiftness of decision Mulder leapt the few feet separating him from his nemesis and grabbed the man around the throat. The cigarette and steel-case lighter dropped to the sandy floor.

"Don't say a word, 'cause I'd just as soon kill you as look at you."

A small smile crossed the lined face as Spender ignored Mulder's threat. Some additional information received barely an hour ago had warned him that Fox Mulder might be on his way and the source of that information would give him some leverage over the recalcitrant young man. He decided to play his cards close to his chest and wait for the right opening before disclosing his hand.

"Mr. Mulder. No doubt the beautiful Miss Scully is close by."

"Shut the fuck up. Now move."

Mulder made sure Spender could feel the barrel of his gun by pressing it, hard, against the man's spine. He forced Spender into the shadows where Scully and the Tuareg waited. Once out of sight he turned Spender to face him.

"Where is he?"

"I assume you are referring to Alex Krycek."

"You know damn well... where is he?"

Spender gazed into eyes barely visible in the darkness surrounding them and yet he could feel the full force of Mulder's passion as if those eyes were boring into his very soul. He felt a momentary kinship with this man; both of them obsessed with the same dark-haired American-Russian, both willing to stop at nothing to have that man by their side. The moment passed as another darker emotion flowed into the wily old brain; hatred. He hated Fox Mulder. He hated the fact that Alex had chosen his son over him and he realized, suddenly, that the greatest pain he could inflict on this man was the truth.

"Alex is dead."

Mulder froze, his heart stopping as the words sank in. They say, when you die your whole life passes before you. Those words had the same effect but it was the memories of his lover that flowed through him. He saw again the outstretched hand, his eyes traveling along the proffered arm to the beautiful face with its wide-spaced, forest-green eyes. The years rolled by; images crashing through him. The feel of that warm body pressed up against the telephone bank at the Hong Kong airport; the fear and anger barely held in check in that Tunguska cell. He recalled the soft haze of love and regret that permeated the air of his apartment as those perfect lips seared his cheek with a single kiss, robbing him of all his new-found certainty and plunging him back into the fight for the future. More images danced through his head; the way Alex's face softened in sleep; the way his eyes glazed over with desire and need as Mulder's fingers stroked deep inside... but it wasn't just sex.

The sound of laughter as they traded stories; the soft tenor drifting from the shower... the companionable silence that followed those moments of passion when he would hold Alex in his arms and cover his face with soft kisses. All these memories crowded into his head until they were wiped away by the single thought... Alex is dead.

"I don't believe you." The soft voice grew harsher and louder. "I don't believe you, you lying piece of cancerous shit. Where is he? Where's Alex?"

Fear replaced the cruelty in those pale blue eyes as Mulder's hands tightened around his throat. He grabbed hold of the wrists but couldn't break the strong grip of the enraged man. As dark spots began to float behind his eyes, his mind screamed out to him to play his winning hand... but another part screamed that without a voice he had no chance. Desperately he tried to speak. He could hear Dana Scully trying to reason with Mulder; could see her tiny fingers trying to pried Mulder's hands away... and then, suddenly, he was free. He fell to the ground, gasping through a bruised larynx as Scully cradled Mulder in her arms. Before he could try to make his feet a large frame planted itself in front of him.

"Where is Krycek?"

The flash of moonlight glinting off the curved edge of dagger caught his attention and Spender knew his winning hand would mean nothing to this man. The dark, menacing features of the Tuareg drew closer, the intent easily readable in the dark eyes.

"He's..." Spender coughed as he struggled to get the words out. "He's... inside the... mothership."

He felt himself being lifted by the lapels of his khaki suit and came face to face with Fox Mulder once more.

"It was... an accident. The virus..."

"How long?" Mulder began to shake the older man. "How long?"

"Too long! It's been too long... no vaccine. There was no vaccine."

Murderous fury filled Mulder's face but before he could act the dark-skinned Arab pushed him aside.

"You will take us to him. Now."

Mulder paused, temporarily stunned by the authority and the intensity behind their guide's voice, so far in contrast to the complaining man who had led them across the desert. He took a step forward, reaching out towards the Tuareg.

"Hamed?"

Mulder flinched when the small hand of his partner gripped his arm, pulling him back, suddenly aware that there was a lot more to their guide than they realized. They watched as the Tuareg pushed Spender ahead of him, the two figures being quickly swallowed by the darkness. Mulder turned questioningly towards his partner and then they followed in the Tuareg's footsteps.

Descending into the ship Mulder lived again the frantic journey across the ice fields of the Antarctic and the climb through one of the vents into the alien craft as he raced against time to save Scully. On that occasion he had not taken in much of what he had seen, replaying the images in his mind once the danger had passed. Those darkened corridors had fueled his nightmares and so had the fear; fear for Scully, fear for Alex. He pushed the fear aside and concentrated on the task at hand. Ahead of him he could see the massive frame of the Tuareg and a glimpse of Spender walking before him.

***********

Spender did not hesitate as he turned down one of the long dark passages. He walked softly, with a straight back, as if unafraid of the unknown man at his back holding the wicked dagger. Behind him he could hear three sets of footsteps echoing along the corridor. The heavy ones of the Tuareg and the lighter step of Dana Scully were far more noticeable but he found himself concentrating on that third set. Fox William Mulder. That had been the hardest blow, when his son had been gifted with her husband's given name. Until then he had almost believed she would leave Bill Mulder; start a new life with him but she had wanted stability for their son. Could she not see that he had always cared for her, perhaps even loved her in his own way? He had wanted her in his life. Not the same way he wanted Alex but then, Alex was special; Alex was as addictive as the nicotine he craved; perhaps even more so but now... now, he had lost it all. His fury rose as the footsteps of the catalyst to his loss drifted around him. He had lost Tina because of his son and then he had lost Alex to his son.

Of all the regrets that came to him during his darkest hours, letting the Colonists take Samantha instead of Fox had become the greatest. Abducting Samantha had been a punishment to Bill Mulder, a way to keep the man in line when it seemed he was about to betray them all. Instead, Bill Mulder had paid twice; losing his daughter and then being forced to offer up another family member for the hybrid experiments but, unlike Cassandra who had offered herself to save her child, Jeffrey, Bill Mulder had given them his son.

Had the man known, from the earliest days, that Fox was not his own flesh and blood? Had this been his own form of revenge on the man who had tried to take his wife? At the time he had been angry but now...? Now, he wished Fox Mulder had never been born.

His thoughts returned to his beloved Alex. He had asked Alex to return to him willingly or see Fox Mulder die but Alex could never come to him willingly now; Alex was dead. He sneered. Perhaps it was time to make good on that promise and see Fox William Mulder die.

***********

Dana Scully glanced from side to side in horror and then set her eyes forward, hoping to close off the images that assailed her. Half-forgotten memories flooded into Scully as she recalled the disorientation of her awakening. She heard the scrabbling of sharp talons against the capsule doors, where fully gestated aliens started to claw their way out of their human wombs. She felt the bony, inhuman fingers catch at their clothes as she was half-carried through the nightmare scene of dead, dying and decomposing bodies hanging in their icy tombs while their parasitic destroyers squirmed inside. She had consigned those images to the strange workings of a mind under extreme stress; had fallen back into unconsciousness before the ship Mulder had described became visible. Now, as she walked along behind their guide she knew the nightmare had been the truth. With her hand clamped across her mouth in horror she tried not to let her eyes dart to either side, afraid to meet the eyes of someone still living... still aware, even though she had known nothing about it herself. Her heart cried out to these unfortunate men and women but she could do nothing to save them. Nothing.

It took over ten minutes to traverse the maze of corridors but eventually Spender halted in front of one of the capsules. He had not faltered one step of the way, the journey taken with Alex having been seared into his mind. The Tuareg brought the handle of the dagger down on the back of Spender's head, sending the man crashing to the floor unconscious. He rubbed his hand across the iced-up front and nodded his head, mouth set in a grim line. Mulder pushed passed and found he was staring into his lover's face. His fingers grazed the surface in front of Alex and then, without forewarning, he smashed his hand through the casing, ignoring the cascade of fluid that soaked him through. Mulder reached in and pulled the sagging naked body into his arms, falling to the ground still clasping the unconscious man, his eyes closing as he nuzzled the stubble-roughened cheek against his own.

The Tuareg reached inside his heavy cloak, pulling out a hypodermic needle filled with a pale liquid. He knelt down beside Mulder.

"It may not be too late."

He plunged the needle into the cold, wet flesh of Alex's left shoulder, pushing down the plunger to inject the contents and then rose back to his feet. With one swift movement he shrugged out of the cloak and draped it over Alex's naked form and then he reached down, attempting to pull the man from Mulder's grasp but found the agent unwilling to let go.

"We must get out of here. Some of these creatures are ready to hatch. We cannot afford to be cornered in here. They will tear us to shreds."

"Who are you?"

The Tuareg's honey-colored eyes stared deep into Mulder's before offering his arm once more.

"A friend. A dead friend if we do not move now."

Mulder nodded and allowed the bigger man to lift Alex before regaining his own feet. Once standing he reached across possessively and relieved the Tuareg of his burden. Alex was his. He hefted Alex over his shoulder and gave one sharp nod to indicate his readiness. They began the journey back to the entrance as the sound of cracking capsules filled the air behind them.

"Faster. We must go faster."

Scully drew her handgun and raced along behind Mulder while the Tuareg brought up the rear, grateful for Mulder's infallible sense of direction as he retraced their steps through the twisting maze of dark corridors. There was no time to dwell on the human death and alien life that lay within a hand's reach on either side of them as they raced around curves, stepped across intersections and scrabbled up the rising path that led towards the surface. Something scraped against her leg and she gasped in terror but kept on moving, focusing all her thoughts on the danger surrounding them, her gun raised, safety catch off... ready to fire.

A new threat made itself known even as they tried to escape the alien one behind them. Ahead they could hear the sound of human voices: Cancerman's goons. As they turned the final corner, they came face to face with several armed men. They quickly dived for cover as bullets ricocheted around them. Scully laid down a pattern of return fire, gradually forcing the goons into cover, leaving the exit clear. Despite this, there was no way they would be able to reach it through the crossfire. They needed more firepower especially as Mulder was disadvantaged being weighed down by Alex's still unmoving body.

Mulder carefully propped his lover against the alien control station and took a quick look to ascertain their position. He ducked back quickly as several bullets sparked near to where his head had been moments before. They were pinned down. He chewed on his full bottom lip, working his way through all their options. A soft moan beneath him brought his attention swinging back. He carefully cradled Alex's chin in the palm of his hand and spoke softly but hesitantly.

"Alex?"

Mulder felt his heart leap into his throat as another soft moan was accompanied by the fluttering of those long dark lashes against the damp cheeks.

Alex opened his eyes to the most beautiful sight he could ever imagine. Mulder's brilliant smile lit up his face and Alex found himself struggling to overcome the lassitude that filled his entire being so he could return that grin. Soft, warm lips brushed against his cold mouth; strong arms enfolded him, crushing him against the strong chest. He sighed as he listened to the comforting sound of a familiar strong heart beating beneath his ear. His senses filled themselves with the sight, sound, smell and touch of Fox Mulder and he fought against the debilitating weariness to return that embrace.

Mulder raised his head, as the eerie scrabbling noise behind them grew louder. The alien hatchlings were getting closer and he knew they would have to risk the bullets or fall prey to the ferocious new life forms. He glanced across at the Tuareg.

"Please tell me you have another surprise for us."

The Tuareg grinned, his white teeth almost the only part of him visible, as he reached under his tunic and pulled out a snub-nosed machine gun. Mulder grinned in response. The small but powerful Uzi might be enough to buy them time to reach the entrance. He spoke softly to Alex, pulling the man's arm about his shoulder and shifting to take the weight of the still unsteady body before nodding his readiness.

The Uzi spat out bullets rapidly, laying down a covering fire as all four of them hastened towards the entrance. Scully shot off round after round as she ran, her bullets sparking off the tops of the computer stations behind which their attackers lay waiting for their own opportunity to return fire. With more luck than anything they made it outside. Mulder ducked sideways as Scully turned her gun on the men waiting to ambush them. Her quick reload earned her an approving smile from her partner but that grin faltered as she cried out in pain. The bullet sliced across her thigh. She gritted her teeth against the pain and carried on.

Above them, the sound of helicopters filled the air. Two black shapes approached rapidly, made visible only by the strong searchlights that played across the ground from a source way above Mulder's head.

Mulder remembered the previous chase through the cornfield in the dead of night, even now he was unsure how they had managed to elude their pursuers but he knew, instinctively, that their chances of doing the same again were negligible. Even if they managed to hide in the depths of the tall corn eventually they would need to come out and Spender's men would be waiting for them. That left only one option. Somehow they had to force one of the helicopters to land. It was their only way out... and there was only one way to achieve it.

Mulder stepped forward into the searchlight and dropped his gun, raising his hands high above his head, leaving Alex on the ground just outside the circle of light.

"What are you doing?"

A hiss of disbelief from his left brought his head around slightly.

"Getting us a lift home."

The Tuareg pursed his lips as he recognized the game plan. Scully stepped into the overlapping circle of lights and they stood calmly, side-by-side, as one of the helicopters drifted down towards them, waiting quietly for it to settle... and for the occupants to jump out. Three black-clothed figures headed towards them. Mulder waited until they were close enough and then yelled.

"Now!"

The Tuareg took out two of the figures as he raced towards the helicopter, the gun aimed at the pilot leaving the man no option but to wait... or die. Dana snatched up her gun at Mulder's shout, her aim true as a bullet smashed into the remaining goon, throwing him backwards. Mulder hauled Alex to his feet and, half-carrying, half-dragging he pulled him towards the helicopter. Bullets cut up the ground beneath their feet, sending plumes of silky sand into the air. With Scully safely onboard and covering the pilot, the Tuareg turned his attention back to the agent and the man they had come to rescue. Mulder reached the helicopter and pushed Alex into the Arab's waiting arms, watching as his lover was dragged into the relative safety of the cockpit. As he started to climb in he felt an incredible pain as a bullet smashed into his back, throwing him forward into the Tuareg's arms.

The Arab pulled him in, lifting his gun to fire back at Mulder's attacker only to see the man burst into flames. Figures of large men appeared out of the darkness, illuminated by the fires that burned as one after another, the Consortium goons were incinerated by the new threat. He gasped as one of the newcomers glanced towards the helicopter. He... it had no face. Fear filled him, driving the breath out of his lungs. As one of the creatures turned towards them, the Arab found his voice, ordering the helicopter to lift off. The pilot needed no persuasion and he watched as the ground receded, the helicopter banking sharply to avoid the fingers of flames that reached out to grab it before heading out across the desert.

Mulder gasped, hardly able to catch his breath. Blood frothed at his mouth from where the bullet had punched its way through his left lung; the blossoming of red against the paleness of his T-shirt marking the exit wound through his chest. He coughed like a drowning man, desperate to clear the fluid filling his lung and cried out as urgent hands ripped open the T-shirt. Mulder felt the darkness closing in as Dana Scully gave frantic orders but he knew he was dying. His vision began to narrow: the sounds around him fading away as if he had moved a great distance. His limbs felt heavy... and cold. A single tear welled in his eye. He didn't want to die. He had so much to live for... someone to live for...

Oh God! Alex!

He could hear Scully in the distance, her voice rough with pain.

"I can't stop the bleeding. We've got to get to a hospital now."

Rough hands grabbed at him. He could barely feel the pressure of a mouth against his cheek, his forehead... his mouth. Barely registered the arms that crushed him into a powerful embrace but inside, he wept for the pain in that roughened voice. Alex. His Alex. Crying for him.

A strange peace swept over him. He had felt this same lassitude before when he had dreamt his father had visited him but this time there was no one there to tell him to fight and despite his desire to stay he knew he had to go. A wail followed him down towards the light that he remembered being told about by people who had near-death experiences and, in that light, he thought he could see the figure of a young girl beckoning towards him: a familiar figure. He smiled at Samantha.

Scully wrapped her arms about the wailing man as Mulder's head flopped backwards, eyes unseeing in death. She tried to pull him away,

"Alex. Alex, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

She heard the tone of Alex's cry change. Heard the wail of grief turn to disbelief and then to anger: a dark determination edging the half-whispered words spoken so close to her ear.

"No. I won't let you go."

Her tears streamed down her face making it impossible to see clearly but suddenly there was a light in the cockpit; a soft glow growing between the two lovers. She dropped her arms from where they were wrapped about the dark-haired man.

The Tuareg had shrunk back away from the bloody corpse and the man whose arms were wrapped around it. Pain twisted Alex's face, as the light grew stronger.

"By Allah!!"

The body in Alex's arms jolted, the mouth falling open as Mulder gasped in another breath... then all was dark and just the booming noise of the helicopter blades rotating filled the cockpit as Alex collapsed across his lover.

***********

Pristine white walls reflected the warm midday sun. The scent of freshly cut flowers filled the air. The humming of a bee mingled with the soft beep of some electrical monitor but, if he concentrated harder, he could hear bird song in the background. Fox Mulder opened his eyes slowly.

Am I dead?

He'd never really believed in the 'angels with feathery wings' kind of afterlife but the face looking down into his own was the most beautiful he had ever seen. The sun picked up red highlights in the locks of sable hair that cascaded over the tall forehead. Dark eyebrows swept outwards, framing wide-spaced eyes lined with a thick fringe of dark lashes. The pink mouth was perfectly sculptured; fleshy lower lip, deeply bowed upper. The bow thinned, as the mouth widened in a beatific smile, showing a glint of white teeth. Mulder's eyes watched as the sea green irises were consumed by the gold-ringed blackness of dilating pupils, momentarily mesmerized by his own reflection. He smiled at the creases that appeared at the outer edges and across the bridge of the pert nose, adding a new dimension of devilry to the dark looks.

A fallen angel, he thought with awe.

"How are you feeling?"

"I..."

Mulder looked stunned as his voice came out all croaky. The face above him frowned anew and disappeared from view. He was about to mourn its loss when he felt himself lifted and the tip of a straw placed between his dry lips.

"Here. Drink this." The cool water slid down his throat and he sighed in appreciation. The husky voice continued. "Now try again."

"Who are you? I feel I should know you."

The soft smile on the man's lips faltered briefly. The short-term loss of memory was to be expected... or so they said. Alex hoped it really was short term. They had shared so much in such a short time that it would be almost unbearable if those memories were lost forever.

"You do know me. You will remember me. It just might take a little time."

Mulder paused as image after image of this beautiful face tumbled through his mind: young and eager, hard and unrelenting, teasing, angry, incredulous, fear-stricken... soft with love then alive with passion. Each picture seemed to tell a small story that gradually grew until one final image settled. Still beautiful and yet this face was streaked in tears. It was the face in the darkness he had imprinted on his mind before turning towards the bright light... and Samantha. It was the face of the man he had so desperately wanted to live for.

"Alex?"

A brilliant smile lit up the pale features and moments later he found himself wrapped in strong arms.

"Ahemm."

They broke apart at the soft feminine voice that drifted across the room. Dana Scully stood on the threshold, one finely sculptured eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I take it you remember who you are... and what happened."

It was not a question but it made Mulder stop to think. Puzzlement crept across his face. Yes, he knew who he was; knew who Alex and Scully were but...

"I was shot." His incredulous tone raised his voice by an octave. "I was shot. I can remember being shot but..."

Mulder looked down at his pajama-clad body expecting to see signs of massive injury. He flexed his arms; pulled his shoulder blades together and grimaced at the twinges that radiated out through his chest. He could feel the pull of a small bandage either side of his body but surely there must have been a lot more damage from the bullet that had entered his back and exploded out of his chest.

"I must have dreamed..."

"No. It wasn't a dream. I don't know how but..." Scully frowned. "Perhaps it wasn't as bad as it looked... there was a lot of blood and it was dark..." She trailed off.

Scully had still not come to terms with what had happened in that helicopter. All she knew was that her friend and partner had seemed to die, his chest shattered by the impact of a high caliber bullet. She'd torn apart his T-shirt, had seen the hole... but maybe it was stress-induced fear that had made it seem worse than it was. Maybe the noise and vibration of the helicopter, and that same fear, had muted his beating heart. The alternative was something out of a fantasy tale and yet, try as she might, she could not deny what she had seen with her own eyes. The glow emanating from Alex had lit up the dark interior. She had seen that glow spread out within Mulder's body; had heard him gasp as his heart began to beat again, kick-starting the rest of his system.

Alex had his own memories of that terrifying time. The pain of unbearable loss suddenly replaced by physical pain as a tingling in his fingertips heralded the ignition of every nerve ending in his body. Some small part of his mind had been able to stand back and examine his actions in a strangely detached manner as the rest of his mind coordinated an attack on the damaged tissue in Mulder's body. He could still visualize the miraculous way the torn muscle, bone and flesh began to knit together even as his own body screamed in agony. When he had awoken it was to discover they were no longer in the helicopter... were no longer even in Tunisia. Instead he was lying in a clean bed with fresh sheets barely three feet away from the man who had come to mean more to him than any being in the entire universe. A man he had believed was dead.

Alex pursed his lips. Neither the doctor nor the nurses would answer his questions, except for general ones about both his condition and Mulder's. Now Fox was awake he knew it was time to demand answers. He opened his mouth to say as much to Mulder and Scully when there was a knock at the door.

Alex's jaw dropped as a thin, elderly man, immaculately dressed, sauntered into the room: his bearing showing him to be a man of good breeding, well mannered but hard. This was a man used to giving orders; a man used to having those orders followed meticulously with no questions asked.

Beside him, Alex saw Mulder sit up straighter, the same surprised expression clearly written across his face even as he fought the twinge of pain that flared in his chest. For Dana Scully there was only confusion.

"I thought Mulder said you were dead."

The man smiled, his eyes twinkling.

"It does seem to be a day for people returning from the dead."

Mulder swallowed, sudden realization that he had died flooding him but, somehow, he had been yanked back from that precipice. He opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by an upraised finger.

"You have questions and I have answers but here is not the place. My driver is waiting downstairs. If you would care to follow me."

"I don't know..."

A hand on his arm stopped the rant before it could begin. Mulder glanced up into Alex's bright eyes, swallowed the retort that had sprung to his lips and nodded his acceptance. Within a few minutes they had exchanged their pajamas for jeans and T-shirts; clothes that were conveniently brought in by one of the nursing staff moments after the Englishman's entrance. Mulder vehemently refused the offer of a wheelchair and pushed aside the porter so he could follow the old man through the bright, sunlit corridors on his own two feet. Despite his momentary rebellion he was not foolish enough to refuse the surreptitious, well-placed hands beneath his elbows as both Alex and Scully supported him down a flight of stairs to the car.

After a short drive they arrived at a small airstrip where an executive helicopter stood waiting on the tarmac. They followed the Englishman on-board, took their indicated seats without comment and sat in silence as the craft lifted off. Twenty minutes later the craft settled on the helipad within the grounds of a large estate. The Englishman led them across a narrow causeway into the chateau. He turned to his 'guests' once they had entered the reception hall.

"I trust you can contain yourselves for a little while longer. Dinner is at 18:00. We will retire to the library afterwards where I will attempt to answer all your questions. Monsieur Verdault will show you to your rooms."

As they turned to follow the stern butler, Alex and Mulder felt a strong grip on their forearms.

"I trust I have not been too forward in providing you with joint accommodation."

Dana Scully felt her unease slip away as a bubble of laughter welled up, threatening to spill. Both Mulder and Alex sported identical flushed faces as the meaning behind the Englishman's words became clear. For someone supposedly dead he seemed to be very well informed... either that or he was a great judge of character.

***********

With almost two hours until dinner Dana Scully paused on the threshold of the room she had been assigned and told Mulder her intention to take a long, hot bath. He smiled knowingly. He'd figured out a long time ago that this was the way she dealt with her problems, relaxing in a hot tub, allowing the thoughts to flow with the water until they settled into place. Remembrance of the occasional balled-up sweet wrapper found tucked into a corner of the bathroom at her apartment sprung to mind and he wondered whether she would be making a call to the kitchen for some 'luxury' items delivered to help her relax.

"Have fun." He gave her a teasing grin. "I've been told Swiss chocolate is one of the best."

She raised an eyebrow and then gave him a knowing smile back before closing the door. Her sideways glance at Alex making it all too clear what kind of fun she presumed Mulder would be indulging in behind his closed door. She just hoped they were accommodated a lot further along the hallway... or that the walls were relatively thick otherwise there was no way she'd be able to relax; not with the sound of passionate love-making drifting across her hearing.

The three men moved onward passed several doors before Verdault halted outside another solid oak door. He turned the handle and then pushed the door open. As with Scully, Verdault made no effort to cross the threshold with them. He had already given them instructions on how to request any assistance. Mulder watched the man walk back down the hallway before closing the door. He turned and gazed at Alex.

With a sigh, Alex flopped down onto the oversize bed, arms spread wide above his head, eyes closed. He smiled as the mattress dipped with the weight of another body; the smile turning to a grin as that body straddled his slim hips. A hand caressed his cheek and he turned his face to nuzzle into the palm.

"Alex?"

Eyes, dilated almost to black, opened at the seriousness in the soft voice. Alex blinked with the strong sunlight that bled through the light netting covering the window. Above him he could see Mulder's grave expression. He watched as Mulder chewed thoughtfully, worrying the fleshy bottom lip between straight white teeth.

"I'm sorry."

The hard lump that formed in his throat was hard to swallow.

"No. It's o..."

"No, it's not okay, Alex. I was an ass. I nearly threw away something beautiful because I couldn't leave the past where it belonged. Nearly losing you..." His voice caught and he cleared his throat before continuing. "Nearly losing you made me realize how stupid I was." He gazed deep into the stormy green eyes. "I am sorry, Alex. Please forgive me."

Alex reached up with both hands and pulled Mulder down towards him. His lips kissed the tip of Mulder's nose… a benediction of sorts.

Mulder's head dropped until their temples touched, he turned his face slightly to press a small kiss against the warm cheek in remembrance of the kiss that had been the catalyst in their new relationship. Softly spoken words were breathed into his ear.

"But there's more."

Mulder pulled back, a guilty look spread across his face.

"Never knew you were psychic."

Alex smiled grimly. "I'm not... but I can tell when something's wrong."

Mulder pushed himself off his lover and sat on the edge of the bed, his mind churning as he tried to find the right way to tell Alex about... The truth. Alex deserved the whole truth.

"Did you ever wonder how the morph managed to find you?" Mulder watched as a crease appeared across the bridge of the pert nose; the eyes narrowing to green slivers. "I told him."

"You what?"

Alex sat up in shock.

"I told him where to find you."

Confusion was replaced by a hurt expression as sudden feelings of betrayal surged within him.

"Why? Because of my past with the Smoker?"

"No! No. I..." Mulder sighed in exasperation. This wasn't going well but then he hadn't expected Alex to just smile brightly and say 'it's okay'. "He came to me at the motel... pretending to be you. We... we... I thought it was you, Alex. I should have known but I was so relieved to see you that I... Alex, I'm sorry. I thought it was you."

Silence descended while Alex sought to make sense of the strange confession. His frown deepening as he watched the averted face.

Why won't he look at me?

All expression drained from Alex's face along with all his blood. Ashen-face he pulled Mulder around and knew. It took a few more moments before it had all sunk in but the guilt apparent on Mulder's face was enough to convince him. With ease he pieced together what had happened that night, suddenly making sense of those cryptic words uttered by the alien as he was pinned beneath the creature's bulk. The morph had deceived Mulder; had 'discovered human pleasure' with Mulder and then tricked him into giving up Alex's location.

Alex closed his eyes to hide his own sorrow. He didn't hold Mulder to blame for what happened... couldn't hold him to blame. He had seen how realistic the morph's disguises could be; had been around the taciturn alien enough times for the creature to pick up some of his habits; to copy his voice and pattern of speech.

He reached out and stroked a single finger down the slightly stubbled cheek, waiting for eyes, full of misery, to meet his own.

"I understand. Believe me. I do understand. And I don't hold you responsible for what happened..." then or later, his mind added. Alex bit his lower lip as he considered what to say about his capture. Should he tell Mulder what that bastard did to him? He needed to tell him. He did not want to add any more skeletons to the ones already hiding in his closet and yet Mulder wasn't ready to hear this. It was too much at once, for Alex knew Mulder was already drowning in a pool of guilt and revealing this now would be like throwing a cement block for him to cling to instead of a life ring. So he bit his tongue and put the memories of his own rape aside.

He laid a soft kiss on Mulder's cheek then enfolded the man in his arms. Together they lay back on the bed, both lost in their own worlds as the memories of the past few days drifted by. Eventually they must have slept waking a few hours later when Dana Scully knocked on the door to call them to dinner.

A frantic rush as two men tried to use the bathroom at the same time brought a smile to both faces as they tried to do the same things in the same order.

"You take the shower while I shave... and then we swap."

Alex kissed the stubbled cheek and jumped into the shower, glaring back playfully at the swat Mulder gave to his bare ass. When they came out of the bathroom they found clothes laid out on the bed. At first it wasn't obvious whose were whose as they were the same height and not too dissimilar a build but then they spotted the embroidered initials on the silk pocket-handkerchiefs.

Mulder turned away from the full size dress mirror to ask Alex what he thought but the words caught in his throat. Gone was the street-wise punk. The man who stood before him in the black tuxedo was a vision to behold. The tailored jacket emphasizing the broad shoulders and slim waist: the green of the silk handkerchief enhancing the brilliance of those beautiful eyes. Mulder cleared his throat.

"Not too shabby, Krycek."

"You too."

Another thump on the door brought them back.

"Hey, Come on you two. I'm starving."

"Scully."

"Best not keep a hungry woman waiting."

***********

Dinner was a civilized affair and, after all that had happened, neither Mulder nor Scully were surprised to see their Tuareg guide seated at the table dressed resplendently in a tuxedo.

"I believe you have met Mr. Nouira"

"How did...?"

The Englishman interrupted, one bony finger raised to admonish his guest.

"Mr. Mulder. We agreed to leave all the questions until after dinner."

Mulder subsided reluctantly. A sideways glance at both his partner and his lover showed similar expressions on their faces. Alex hid his half-smile before the Englishman noticed; he had been here before, metaphorically speaking. Having experienced several shared meals with the Englishman he had come to realize that this was more than just force of habit. In such a precarious business it paid to keep Consortium business away from the dinner table where the uninformed might overhear. Better to be accustomed to dealing with this business in the privacy of the library where only those invited could listen in.

The meal was excellent, more so considering the last few days, but ended none too soon for Mulder. By the time the last empty dish was removed he was fidgeting like a small child and their host eventually decided to take pity on him.

"Shall we adjourn to the library?"

With a half-smile he pushed back his chair, stood then turned and walked towards the French doors expecting his guests to follow. With a 'come on' expression aimed at both Scully and Alex, Mulder shot out of his chair, his long legs helping him to catch up with the Englishman quickly but he remained silent until the doors of the library had closed behind them. Seated comfortably with a brandy snifter in one hand, Mulder held his lover's gaze for a moment while the elderly man lit a cigar.

"You may begin, Mr. Mulder."

"O...kay. First. What is his role in all this?"

The hand holding the brandy glass waved towards their one-time guide.

The Englishman gave a small smile. He had anticipated this being the first question even though there were far more important issues to be discussed. It was this insight into people's character's that had made him such a powerful leader. He knew Mulder would be annoyed about Nouira. He knew the FBI agent would have taken this subterfuge personally as if the deception was intended just for him alone but then, Mulder had been deceived on so many levels, so many times; given false trails to follow... false partners to rely on.

He glanced across at the young Russian American that he had taken under his wing. He couldn't take the blame... or the praise for that mistake, for it was his long time associate Spender who had recruited, trained and assigned the idealistic young man albeit with a gentle push from him. What he could do was take the credit for recognizing the promise shown... and for capitalizing on the attraction between his Alex and Fox Mulder. As part of a team they would be formidable. Alex would keep Mulder focused on the fight and Mulder would give Alex the psychological support he needed; an ally, a friend... a lover.

Of course he could not overlook the importance of Dana Scully. She was a grounding influence against Mulder's proclivity to look for the esoteric rather than the simplest explanation in every case and she would be the anchor required to keep Alex from becoming another Spender. Alex was his protégé: the man who would inherit the leadership of the Human Resistance. No one else had displayed that unique mix of determination and intelligence needed to organize Earth defenses against the invading Colonists but 'power' could be a corrupting influence. Alex would be walking a razor's edge. On one side lay the darkness of megalomania: ruthlessness, self-glorification. On the other side lay despair, fear for life and limb. With Mulder and Scully walking the razor's edge with him there was less chance that he might topple and that could only benefit the fight for the future.

He realized, suddenly, that Mulder was still awaiting an answer to his question.

"As you so rightly surmised, Mr. Nouira is not a guide for hire. We had narrowed down the possible location of the second mothership to a desert region." He halted abruptly, his eyes stabbing Mulder's like lasers. "Of course you did realize that only Spender and Strughold were informed of its location."

Mulder sneered.

"You don't expect me to believe you didn't..."

"Oh but I do, Mr. Mulder. The First Elder felt the fewer people who knew, the better the security and that applied even to the rest of the Consortium leadership. If I may continue..."

Mulder nodded his consent begrudgingly.

"Mr. Nouira has been stationed outside the Tunisian international airport for the past two months waiting for something or someone who might lead us to the mothership... but, perhaps I ought to let Mr. Nouira continue."

The dark-skinned Arab smiled, pleased to have the opportunity to explain. He studied Mulder for a moment before continuing.

"I recognized you. Realized there could be little reason for you to be in Tunisia unless you had information to follow-up on a paranormal... or extraterrestrial objective. I followed you to the Sahara then paid off the other guides and offered my services."

Scully leaned forward, her cerulean blue eyes narrowed to slivers; her pert lips pulled into a questioning pout.

"You had a vial of the vaccine on you."

Brilliant white teeth shone in contrast to his rich coffee-colored flesh.

"Of course. A precautionary measure should one of our operatives be infected by the retrovirus. I was vaccinated before taking up the assignment. I believe you were given the same vaccine onboard the Antarctic mothership."

"If Alex is one of your men then why wasn't he vaccinated?"

"Aahh. Perhaps I had better explain that anomaly." All eyes turned back to the elderly Englishman. "Mr. Krycek was vaccinated some time ago but has recently undergone a... physical change that has destroyed his immunity to the retrovirus. I decided it was in his best interest if we delayed re-vaccinating him on the grounds that we had no idea how his altered DNA would react. We were in the process of testing his blood work when our laboratory was destroyed. Mr. Nouira took a gamble when he injected Mr. Krycek with the vaccine but, under the circumstances, a necessary gamble."

Alex sat forward, licking his suddenly dry lips.

"I think this is where I come in with my questions."

The old man smiled benevolently at the young man who would eventually replace him. He felt paternal warmth rising within that should have been there whenever he gazed upon his own natural children. For a brief moment he understood Spender's disappointment with his acknowledged son, Jeffrey... and his pride in Fox Mulder; the unacknowledged one. For him, Alex Krycek had become a surrogate son: an heir to his empire. Of course he would bequeath all the legally registered wealth to his natural children but Alex Krycek would inherit a considerably larger amount. All of the hidden resources and wealth of the Human Resistance would be at his disposal for the fight to save humanity.

"My dear boy, I believe you already know most of the answers. I can only offer my apologies for not suspecting that you carried implants. But then, if I had known I would have never chosen you as my successor. That would have been a monumental loss. However, your exposure to the Rebels was most fortuitous. Apart from the obvious physical change..." He motioned towards Alex's left arm. "...I expect you have discovered several new abilities. Mr. Mulder's continued well-being is testament to one of those..."

"Jeremiah Smith."

"Aaah. Of course. I had forgotten your involvement with our first alien ally. I believe Mr. Smith demonstrated his healing abilities quite publicly... and his morphing abilities too if memory serves me correct. However, Alex is not a pure blood. I believe you will find he has similar abilities but to a far lesser degree."

"You said several new abilities. I can think of only two but... several implies more than two."

"How astute, Alex. Yes, there is one other ability that has yet to be triggered. Mr. Mulder has come across it already."

The Englishman waited while Mulder racked his brain to determine this third ability. His search took him back through every encounter... back to BioTechnics where the mutilated features of the Rebel alien had... His eyes widened. The alien had no mouth and yet Mulder had heard him speak so clearly.

"Telepathy."

"Well done." He held up one hand to forestall the expected question. "I have no idea how this ability can be triggered but advise you to proceed with caution. Once switched on it may prove more of a hindrance than a help."

Further talk was interrupted as Verdault entered the room carrying a note on a silver plate. He presented it to his employer and waited silently. The Englishman read the note, his seamed mouth curling up at the edges.

"It appears our Rebel friends have scored a victory in this war. The Tunisian mothership has been destroyed along with all the Colonists onboard."

"What happened to the other ship? The Antarctic ship."

"Unknown... although it is thought it might be hiding in the moon's shadow. That takes it out of our reach..."

"But not out of reach of the Rebels." Mulder's eyes held a dangerous glint as he spoke.

"Hmmm. Unfortunately, they do not have the resources to confront a mothership in space whereas, on the ground, it is defenseless." The Englishman smiled. "However, we have scored a major victory. Colonization has been set back at least a decade. This buys us more time to continue the fight."

"And the bad news?"

The low, husky tone caught everyone's attention and Alex watched as the smile faltered on the old man's face.

"Yes. The bad news. It appears our Colonists have another mothership on route to Earth. It will arrive within the next eight years. That leaves us little time to complete our work on a vaccine that can be administered globally and even then, we will still need to defend the Earth against an invasion." The old man looked at each of the four. "I am afraid you will have your work cut out for you in the years ahead."

The Englishman drew the crystal glass to his lips and sipped slowly, relishing the warm flow of the brandy down his dry throat. There was so much more to discuss... but enough for tonight. He tipped up the glass to drain the last of the brandy and then reached out to press a small button near his chair. Moments later Verdault entered. The old man stood. He smiled gently at the four guests.

"We have spoken enough for tonight." He held up his hand to forestall any argument. "I am an old man who needs his sleep. We will speak here again tomorrow, after breakfast. Mr. Verdault will summon you when it is time."

With a final nod of his head he bid them all good night and walked through the door.

***********

 **Master Bedroom  
West Wing**

The old man slipped off his robe and climbed into the comfortable bed, drawing the light covers up around him. Today had been as exhausting as he had expected but also somewhat of a relief. Until now he had only his gut feelings to rely upon but as his thoughts dwelt upon the four people he had left behind in the library he felt some of the worry lift from his shoulders.

They were young, full of promise and full of hope. He had been like them once but he knew he was living on borrowed time and they were the future. Tomorrow he would begin to prime Alexei Krycek, Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and Hamed Nouira for their new roles.

He reflected for a moment on what those roles would be.

Hamed Nouira: loyal, dependable, strong and assertive. He would be in charge of all the security, ensuring the safety of the three others as far as humanly possible.

Dana Scully: a doctor in her own right. She would oversee all the scientific research. Currently there were numerous projects being worked on, the most important of which was the continued development of a vaccine that would destroy the Colonists ability to use humans as hosts. The Englishman's mouth drooped as his thoughts returned to Bonita Charne-Sayre, his murdered lover. She had come so close to creating the perfect vaccine using the Variola virus but, fortunately, the Russian assassin had not destroyed all of her work. Enough remained for his scientists to restart the project. Tomorrow he would hand all of that research material over to Scully.

Fox Mulder: an exceptional man in all respects. His unique ability to get inside another man's head had made him one of the FBI's top profilers and a formidable presence within the X-Files. The old man smiled. Mulder would have made a brilliant psychologist but fate had chosen a different path for him. He would be Alex's chief advisor and conscience, but more than that he would be Alexei's companion, providing the same supportive role that Bonita had filled for him. Tomorrow he would hand over all the information collected on the invading Colonists over the past five decades, giving the agent all the answers to all the questions he had ever asked. The Englishman pursed his lips as he wondered how Mulder would take the news that he had been experimented upon for most of his life. Unlike the others, though, Mulder had never been given implants. At first this was because the Colonists were wary of adding anything that might affect the results of their tests but later it had been deemed too dangerous; a justifiable decision considering the number of x-rays Mulder had submitted himself to over the past few years.

As for Alexei Krycek, he had the toughest role of all of them but with Mulder and Scully by his side, the Englishman had no doubt that he would prove himself more than equal to the task ahead. He supposed some would find it strange that he had chosen Alex Krycek to succeed him as leader of the Human Resistance rather than Fox Mulder but, when looked at closely, he was the logical choice. Alex possessed a darkness within him; an ability to do what was necessary rather than what was morally correct.

The fate of the human race would be in his hands and, what was that saying? 'The good of the many outweighs the good of the few, or the one.' There would be occasions when 'a few' would have to be sacrificed in order to save them all but neither Scully nor Mulder had the darkness within them to order that sacrifice. They would falter; torn by the moral dilemma, and all would be lost.

With a last sigh, he ordered his thoughts and then closed his eyes. There were still many things to do but, tonight, for the first time in many years, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his frail shoulders. Within moments, he slipped into a deep, restful sleep.

***********

The Bounty Hunter gazed out of the large view port into the darkness beyond, lost in thought. Very little light reached the dark side of the Earth's only natural satellite but what little there was emphasized the deep impact craters and canyons that pitted the moon's surface. He had barely escaped the approaching Rebels having, fortunately, been outside of the mothership when the attack came. From the shadows he had seen the rescued Alexei Krycek being taken to safety along with the delectable Fox Mulder. It was the one part of the whole debacle that gave him a modicum of pleasure; an illicit pleasure as many of his own people had died because of those two half-humans.

He wondered whether Spender had escaped incineration and then realized that he did not care. There were plenty more power-hungry humans on the planet that would be only too eager to betray their whole race for their own gain. It would not take long to establish a new Consortium to carry on where the old left off. The laboratories were still there and so were many of the scientists, their experiments still in progress.

Only one thing stood in the way of Colonization; the Rebels, both alien and human. Hunting down the rebel Colonists had taken most of his energy over the past few decades but the Leadership had decided he should focus his attention on the Human Resistance. They were far more vulnerable, their technology far inferior. It was a dilemma that he had been unwilling to disclose. After more than five decades serving his people faithfully and without compromise he had taken a step back; had given a proper look at the new species that currently dominated this world and realized that, primitive or not, they were intelligent beings... and that they had a right to live.

He cursed Fox Mulder. Before his intervention he had dealt only with the rebelling factions of his own race and the slimy dregs of humanity. It had been easy to turn a blind eye to the rest; to keep the walls built high and strong but Fox Mulder had shown him that there were humans willing to sacrifice themselves for others.

At first that thought had frightened him and he had been one of the many who raised their voices demanding Mulder's elimination. Now, with memories of that firm, willing flesh writhing under his hands, the wall had started to crumble. The delicious sensation of having Alexei Krycek pinned beneath him had brought more of this wall crashing down about him. He closed his eyes, his fingers tingling as they remembered the softness of ivory skin, the exotic scent of heated flesh.

The morph sneered. How could he reconcile these new feelings when only a few days ago he had held the Smoker in contempt for exhibiting the same unhealthy obsession for this same human?

His gaze turned outwards once more. Something inside him had changed and for the first time he felt true fear.

***********

Mulder sat down on the bed and watched his lover discard the jacket and cummerbund, loosen the bow tie and then unbutton his shirt. He licked suddenly dry lips as smooth, ivory flesh was slowly revealed in this unconscious strip tease. He raised his head from the delightful glimpse of warm skin when he realized Alex had stopped moving, discovering an amused smile curling the sensuous lips. The smile turned, for just a moment, to an impish grin. Mulder's eyes widened as Alex placed one hand beneath the white, hanging shirt, sliding the palm across his bare chest. He could see the movement of fingers circling the dark areola, teasing the nipple until it tented the light fabric. Perfect white teeth worried seductively at the fleshy bottom lip before being soothed by a caress of the pink tongue as the palm moved down to stroke across the flat, muscular stomach; the fingers dipping beneath the waist of the trousers for a instant before running back up the torso. Mulder gave a groan and reached out to grasp his lover but Alex danced a step backward beyond his reach. The impish smile returned.

With smooth, gentle movements he dragged the material of the bow tie from around his neck, held it out but then dropped it to the floor before Mulder could reach for it. The shirt fell wide open as both hands buried themselves in the silky, sable hair before running back down over strong pectorals; down lower to the waistband. With a flick of agile fingers the button was released and the other hand lowered the zip slowly until the pants were gaping open.

Mulder drew in a deep, shuddering breath as Alex lifted one foot and placed it on the bed between his open thighs. He obeyed the unspoken request. Suddenly nerveless fingers untied the laces but Alex took his foot away before Mulder could remove the shoe altogether. The other foot replaced it and Mulder repeated his actions.

He watched as Alex toed off first one shoe then the other. A socked foot returned, the toes nuzzling against the hardening bulge at Mulder's groin. Mulder closed his eyes to revel in the sensation, his hips rocking slowly in tempo until a sharp nudge brought him back. Alex smiled when Mulder got the message and began to peel down the sock. Strong fingers caught his foot before he could take it away, gently massaging but Mulder didn't resist when Alex pulled away, knowing there was more to come. A second groin massage fanned the flames of desire that were licking through his body but, once again, he submitted to the demands of his lover. He grinned as the thought of throwing Alex to the bed and sucking on his toes came flashing through his mind but that thought evaporated as Alex continued with his erotic strip tease.

Alex wiggled his hips as his hands slowly pushed down the pants, fingers releasing suddenly. The material pooled on the floor and he stepped out of them. The white briefs could barely contain Alex's erection and Mulder's fingers itched to reach out and flick aside the constraining material but Alex stepped forward swiftly, pressing his clothed groin against his lover's face, rocking his hips to rub himself against the slightly stubbled cheek. Mulder's head turned until he could mouth the hardened flesh through the thin cotton, his saliva adding to the wetness of precome. His hands grabbed the narrow hips holding Alex in place as he tried to suck on the cotton-covered head. Above him Alex moaned, enjoying the additional friction from the material sliding against the sensitive tip, his hands burying themselves in the thick chestnut hair, pushing Mulder harder against him. A surge of desire heralded the start of his orgasm and, with a moan of regret he pushed Mulder away. He had plans for tonight... and creaming his shorts weren't part of them.

"Uh, uh."

Alex admonished his lover as Mulder tried to recapture him. He turned his back and then slowly removed the damp briefs, the shirttail riding up as he bent over giving Mulder a perfect view of one of his best features.

Mulder breathed his lover's name as his hands reached forward to cup the soft, muscular ass cheeks. He massaged the pale globes; his thumbs sliding down the crevice to gently pull the cheeks apart. Leaning forward, he breathed in the rich scent of his lover as his tongue swiped across the exposed opening.

"Alex!"

Green eyes, full of mischief glanced back over the broad shoulders as Alex straightened and moved away, stepping out of the briefs that circled around his ankles. He shrugged the white dress shirt from his shoulders, allowing it to fall far enough to expose the powerful shoulder muscles but hide the delicious ass.

A quick action at each wrist released the cuffs and the shirt was, suddenly, floating down the body like the unveiling of a statue. Tongue in cheek, he half turned back towards his panting lover, giving Mulder the erotic view of the rose-red, hardened flesh arcing up towards his navel.

"I'm gonna take a shower..."

"What!"

Alex bolted for the bathroom door with the sound of several expletives exploding from his lover behind him. He made it barely in time to shut the door in Mulder's face and turn the latch. Mulder thumped on the bathroom door as the sound of soft laughter and running water floated from beyond.

"Damn cocktease... Aw! Come on, Alex. You wouldn't leave me like this? Would you?"

Several minutes passed while Mulder repeated his entreaties. Suddenly, he froze as the snick of the latch being released was heard. He turned the handle and gently pushed open the door to reveal Alex standing in the center of the large bathroom. Beside him the tub was half-filled with hot water and plenty of bubbles but Mulder barely glanced at this, his whole attention taken up by the mesmerizing sight before him. He swallowed hard as a hand reached out to him, allowing himself to be pulled into the strong embrace. Something primeval overtook his senses as he luxuriated in the feel of willing, naked flesh pressed against the length of his own still-clothed body. He sought out the pink, bowed lips, crushing them against his own as his tongue slipped passed to claim that pretty mouth, relishing the feel of the pliant body bending beneath him submissively. His delusions of dominant possession were swiftly discarded as the body in his arms twisted round and he found himself falling backwards into the hot tub, still fully clothed.

Mulder spluttered back up to the surface, flicking the wet hair from his eyes and glared at the man howling in laughter above him.

"You bastard."

"You know, you've got a dirty mouth, Mulder. Perhaps I should wash it out with soap..."

"You dare and I'll..."

Mulder reached out suddenly, catching Alex by surprise. He snared a wrist and pulled Alex into the tub on top of him. More laughter filled the bathroom as they splashed and thrashed against each other unconcerned with the amount of water that slopped over the edge to soak the floor.

Both men were panting hard by the time their game subsided and Alex's heart melted at the beautiful grin Mulder aimed at his playful lover. More water slopped over the edge as Mulder sat upright. He carried on grinning as Alex helped him remove the sodden clothing, the items landing with a wet smack upon the tiled floor.

"You are a bastard."

"Okay, that does it. Where's the soap?"

"Yes, it does, doesn't it?"

Alex paused, momentarily bemused until it clicked.

"Eww!! Mulder, that's obscene."

"Is it?"

Mulder licked his lips as he picked up the cake of soap from the tray, rubbing it between his hands to produce lather, one eyebrow raised questioningly until a smile of devilry broke across the angelic face. Alex turned and leaned against the edge of the tub, raising his ass at the same time. Waves of water lapped over the edge as Mulder moved up behind him. Lather-coated hands pulled his cheeks apart as Mulder gave in to the urge to rim the tight muscle. A quiet moan and a quivering of the strong thighs accompanied the thrusting of his tongue. Gradually, the muscle relaxed and Mulder pulled away to replace his tongue with slippery soap-covered fingers. Alex thrust back onto the single digit as it slid home, angling his descent so the tip would scrape across the sensitive prostate. He gasped as licks of fire radiated outwards along his nerve endings. Mulder continued the gentle finger fucking replacing the one with two and then three fingers as he slowly stretched the opening.

"Mulder!"

Taking pity on his lover, Mulder withdrew and slicked more of the soap over his own straining flesh. He positioned himself behind Alex and pushed in slowly, savoring the feel of hot, tight flesh gripping his aching erection. He sighed as he glided smoothly into the well-prepared body, his hands holding Alex firmly by the hips as he ground against the back of his lover's firm thighs. Ripples became waves as he thrust harder and faster into the willing body, grateful for the non-slip matting beneath his knees that kept him from sliding in the water. One hand snaked around to fist the hard cock, pumping Alex in time with his own thrusts. He felt the ass muscles clench, heard the pants become gasps as suddenly Alex stilled, keening out softly as he came against the side of the tub.

Mulder thrust once, twice, throwing back his head as wave after wave of ecstasy swept over him as he pumped his seed deep into the beautiful body. He collapsed against the solid back, mouth clamping down on the juncture of neck and shoulder as he marked this man as his own.

Pulling away, finally, Mulder moved back as Alex turned, watching as his beautiful lover draped himself over the edge of the tub, head thrown back, and suds clinging seductively to the satiated body. Alex moaned contentedly.

"You know, I could get used to this life."

"Well, don't. I don't believe our English 'friend' is planning to keep us in the lap of luxury without some payment in return."

Alex smiled sadly.

"You don't get it, do you, Mulder?"

He pulled himself up and climbed out of the bath, wrapping an oversize towel around himself before turning back.

"When you came after me, you burned all your bridges. It would be suicide to return to the life you had... and even if it wasn't, I couldn't go back with you. I'd be dead within a few weeks."

Mulder shivered, as much from the rapidly cooling water as from the morbidity of the discussion. He stood up, shaking the droplets from his skin before stepping out into the warmth of the fresh towel Alex held out.

"And what about Scully?"

Crinkle lines appeared around the sea-green eyes as Alex gave a 'what do you think' kind of shrug. Mulder sighed. Alex was right. None of them could return to their former lives; they had seen too much, done too much. Their only hope lay with the well-spoken, well-dressed Englishman who had intimated that he had plans for each of them. Tomorrow they would be offered a new path; hopefully, one that would keep them alive... and together.

Mulder briskly rubbed his body dry and then threw the towel onto the tiled floor to soak up some of the water. He watched Alex do the same and then drew closer to the other man, pulling his lover into his arms.

Alex sighed and leaned his head upon the strong shoulder, his arms wrapping themselves around the lean torso, his fingers stroking the soft skin of the lower back. His body felt both invigorated and yet languid, as he pressed closer to the almost hairless chest, enjoying the pleasant burn of possession, emotionally and physically. He felt arms tighten around his own body in response and smiled into the warm flesh. It seemed as if a lifetime of pain and misery had passed since he first set eyes upon this beautiful, intelligent man. No doubt the future held even more of the same and yet, somehow, Alex knew the good times would far outweigh the bad.

He whispered softly to his lover.

"Let's go to bed."

They moved as one to the large bed and slid between the warm sheets. Eventually they slept, still wrapped in each other's embrace.

***********

 **Same Time  
New York City**

CGB Spender sat on the edge of the lumpy bed and smiled at the young man standing in the center of the room. Shaking a cigarette from the pack, he reached into his pocket for his lighter but the 'boy' moved faster, producing a steady flame from his own lighter.

Bright boy.

He bent his head forward to capture the flame with the tip of the cigarette, his thoughts returning to another 'bright boy' who shared similar physical characteristics to this one and then, inevitably, to those final moments in the Tunisian mothership....

He had led Mulder to his Alex; had gazed upon that beautiful face once more before darkness closed around him. When he awoke he had found the corridor filled with the chittering newborns. If he had not been given the patch that slowly released pheromones to mask the scent of his humanity, then he would have been torn apart by the creatures. Instead, he had slowly pushed his way through the hideous, scratching mass of hatchlings as they followed the scent of new prey towards the surface; his fearful heart beating so hard and fast that he thought it might burst.

Once he had reached the surface he'd wasted no time contacting his people, making straight for the helicopter when it settled down onto the landing pad. As he'd climbed inside he had heard a shout and seen Strughold running towards him. Behind him, the heavy-set bulks of the Rebel aliens had been silhouetted against the fiery backdrop.

He had hesitated and then turned away and ordered the pilot to take off. He had looked back in time to see Strughold turn to meet his death; watched dispassionately, as flames engulfed his former colleague's form.

His thoughts returned to the present, watching as the young, dark-haired hustler attempted to strip provocatively for him, but he could see there was no emotion in the dull, green eyes. Spender sighed, and took one last drag from the cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. He reached out and trailed his nicotine-stained fingers down the smooth skin and along the length of the swollen shaft.

He smiled softly and dreamed of his Alex.

THE END

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

April 7, 2000


End file.
